THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 


THE  SILESIAN  HOESEHERD 

(DAS  PFERDEBURLA) 

QUESTIONS    OF    THE    HOUR 

ANSWERED  BY 
FKIEDBICH   MAX  MULLER 


TRANSLATED  FROM   THE  GERMAN 
BY   OSCAR   A.   FECHTER 

WITH  A  PREFACE 
BY  J.    ESTLIN  CARPENTER,  M.A. 


LONGMANS,    GREEN,    AND    CO. 

91  AND  93  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK 

LONDON  AND  BOMBAY 

1903 


COPYRIGHT,  1903,  BY 
LONGMANS,    GREEN,  AND  CO. 


3.  8.  Cashing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 

THE  story  of  this  volume  is  soon  told.  In  July, 
1895,  Professor  Max  Muller  contributed  to  the 
Deutsche  Rundschau  an  essay  on  the  lost  treatise 
against  Christianity  by  the  philosopher  Celsus, 
known  to  us  through  the  reply  of  Origen  of  Alex- 
andria. This  essay,  entitled  "  The  '  True  History  ' 1 
of  Celsus,"  contained  an  exposition  of  the  doctrine  of 
the  Logos  and  its  place  in  Christian  teaching,  with 
reference  also  to  its  applications  in  our  modern 
thought.  Among  the  comments  upon  it  which  in 
due  time  found  their  way  to  Oxford,  was  a  vigorous, 
if  familiar,  letter  (dated  February,  1896)  from  a 
German  emigrant  to  the  United  States,  residing  in 
Pennsylvania,  who  signed  himself  by  the  unusual 
name  of  the  Pferdebiirla,  or  "  Horseherd."2  His 
criticisms  served  as  a  fair  sample  of  others  ;  and  his 
letter  was  published  with  a  reply  from  Professor 

1  The  Greek  term  "  logos  "  was  rendered  Geschichte  in  the  Ger- 
man title. 

2  The  word  Pferdebiirla  is  apparently  a  Silesian  equivalent  for 
Pferdebursche,   and  is  represented  in  this  volume  by  the  term 
"  horseherd,"  after  the  analogy  of  cowherd,  swineherd,  or  shep- 
herd.   The  termination  biirla  is  probably  a  local  corruption  of  the 
diminutive  burschel  or  burschlein. 

v 

1 22657 


vi  PREFACE 

Max  Miiller  in  the  Rundschau  of  November,  1896. 
More  letters  poured  in  upon  the  unwearied  scholar 
who  had  thus  set  aside  precious  time  out  of  his  last 
years  to  answer  his  unknown  correspondent.  One 
of  these,  from  "  Ignotus  Agnosticus,"  supplied  a  text 
for  further  comment,  and  the  whole  grew  into  a 
little  popular  apologia,  which  was  published  at  Berlin 
in  1899,  and  entitled  Das  Pferdeburla,  or  "  Questions 
of  the  Day  answered  by  Friedrich  Max  Miiller." 

The  veteran  teacher  thus  enforced  once  more  his 
ideas  of  the  relation  of  language  and  thought,  in 
which  he  had  long  since  recognised  the  clue  to  man's 
knowledge  of  the  relation  of  his  spirit  to  God.  This 
inner  union  he  found  realised  in  Christ,  according 
to  the  testimony  of  the  Fourth  Gospel ; J  and  the 
lucid  treatment  of  this  great  conception,  freed  from 
the  technicalities  of  theology,  will  possibly  prove  to 
some  readers  the  most  helpful  portion  of  this  book. 
Ranging  over  many  topics,  once  the  themes  of  vehe- 
ment controversy,  the  discussion  has  often  an  inti- 
mate, familiar,  personal  air.  The  disputants  on 
opposite  sides  had  drawn  nearer;  they  could  better 
understand  each  other's  points  of  view.2  These  pages, 
therefore,  reveal  the  inmost  beliefs  of  one  who  had 

1  "  What  difference  does  it  make,"  he  would  ask,  "whether  it 
was  written  by  the  son  of  Zebedee,  or  some  other  John,  if  only 
it  reveals  to  us  the  Son  of  God  ?  "  (letter  from  the  Vicar  of  St. 
Giles's,  Oxford,  Life  and  Letters,  II,  Chap,  xxxvi.). 

2  See  the  letters  between  Max  Miiller  and  Dr.  G.  J.  Romanes, 
Life  and  Letters,  II,  Chap.  xxxi. 


PREFACE  yii 

devoted  more  than  fifty  years  to  the  study  of  the 
history  of  religious  thought  on  the  widest  scale,  and 
had  himself  passed  through  severe  struggles  and 
deep  griefs  with  unshaken  calm.  No  reader  of  Max 
Miiller's  writings,  or  of  the  Life  and  Letters,  can  fail 
to  recognise  in  these  trusts  the  secret  unity  of  all 
his  labours.  The  record  of  human  experience  con- 
tained in  the  great  sacred  literatures  of  the  world, 
and  verified  afresh  in  manifold  forms  from  age  to 
age,  provided  a  basis  for  faith  which  no  philosophy 
or  science  could  disturb. 

This  is  the  key  to  the  reasonings  and  appeals  of 
this  little  book.  It  was  translated  as  a  labour  of 
love  by  Mr.  Fechter,  Mayor  of  North  Yakima,  in  the 
United  States.  The  translation  has  been  revised  on 
this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  is  now  offered  to  the 
public  in  the  belief  that  this  final  testimony  of  a 
"voice  that  is  still"  to  the  reality  of  "things  un- 
seen "  will  be  welcome  to  many  inquiring  and  per- 
haps troubled  minds. 

J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER. 
OXFORD,  April  2, 1903. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

PREFACE      Y 

I.     THE  *  TRUE  HISTORY  '  OF  CELSUS          ...  1 

II.     THE  HORSEHERD 40 

III.  CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD         ....  68 

IV.  LANGUAGE  AND  MIND 105 

V.     THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION      .        .        .  153 

VI.    CONCLUSION 217 


THE   SILESIAN   HORSEHERD 

THE  following  essays,  which  were  intended  pri- 
marily for  the  Horseherd,  but  which  were  published 
in  the  Deutsche  Rundschau,  demand  a  short  explana- 
tory introduction.  This,  I  believe,  can  best  be  given 
by  me,  by  means  of  a  reprint  of  another  essay  which 
appeared  in  the  same  periodical,  and  was  the  direct 
cause  for  the  letter,  which  the  writer,  under  the 
name  of  "  Horseherd,"  addressed  to  me.  I  receive 
many  such  anonymous  communications,  but  regret 
that  it  is  only  rarely  possible  for  me  to  answer  them 
or  to  give  them  attention,  much  as  I  should  like  to 
do  so.  In  this  particular  case,  the  somewhat  abrupt, 
but  pure,  human  tone  of  the  letter  appealed  to  me 
more  than  usual,  and  at  my  leisure  I  attempted  an 
answer.  My  article,  which  called  forth  the  letter 
of  the  Horseherd,  was  entitled  "  The  '  True  History ' 
of  Celsus," 1  in  the  July  number  of  the  Deutsche 
Rundschau,  1895,  and,  with  a  few  corrections,  is  as 
follows :  — 

I 

THE   'TRUE   HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS 

IN  an  article  which  appeared  in  the  March  num- 
ber of  the  Deutsche  Rundschau,  1895,  entitled  "  The 
Parliament  of  Religions  in  Chicago,"  I  expressed  my 
1  Ueber  die  Wahre  Geschichte  des  Celsus. 

B  1 


2  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

surprise  that  this  event  which  I  had  characterised  as 
in  my  opinion  the  most  important  of  the  year  1893, 
had  been  so  little  known  and  discussed  in  Germany 
—  so  little,  that  the  editors  of  the  Wiener  Fremden- 
Uatt  thought  it  needful  to  explain  the  nature  of 
the  Chicago  Congress.  Likewise,  when  in  answer 
to  the  question  as  to  what  I  should  consider  the  most 
desirable  discovery  of  the  coming  year  in  my  depart- 
ment, I  answered  the  discovery  of  the  Sermo  Verm 
of  Celsus ;  this,  too,  appeared  to  be  a  work  so  little 
known,  that  the  editors  considered  it  necessary  to 
add  that  Celsus  was  a  renowned  philosopher  of  the 
second  century,  who  first  subjected  the  ever  spread- 
ing system  of  Christianity  to  a  thorough  criticism  in 
a  work  entitled  Sermo  Verus.  The  wish,  yes,  even 
the  hope,  that  this  lost  book,  of  which  we  gain  a  fair 
idea  from  the  reply  of  Origen,  should  again  make  its 
appearance,  was  prompted  by  the  recent  discoveries 
of  ancient  Greek  papyrus  manuscripts  in  Egypt. 
Where  so  many  unexpected  discoveries  have  been 
made,  we  may  hope  for  yet  more.  For  who  would 
have  believed  that  ancient  Greek  texts  would  be 
found  in  a  mummy-case,  the  Greek  papyrus  leaves 
being  carelessly  rolled  together  to  serve  as  cush- 
ions for  the  head  and  limbs  of  a  skeleton?  It 
was  plain  that  these  papyrus  leaves  had  been  sold 
as  waste  paper,  and  that  they  were  probably  ob- 
tained from  the  houses  of  Greek  officials  and  mili- 
tary officers,  who  had  established  themselves  in  Egypt 
during  the  Macedonian  occupation,  and  whose  furni- 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  3 

ture  and  belongings  had  been  publicly  sold  and  scat- 
tered on  occasion  of  their  rapid  withdrawal.  There 
were  found  not  only  fragments  of  classical  texts,  as 
of  Homer,  Plato,  and  the  previously  unknown  treatise 
on  "  The  Government  of  the  Athenians,"  not,  per- 
haps, composed,  but  utilised,  by  Aristotle,  but  also 
many  fragments  of  Christian  literature,  which  made 
it  probable  that  the  libraries  of  Christian  families  also 
had  been  thrown  on  the  market,  and  that  papyrus 
leaves,  when  they  appeared  useless  for  any  other 
purpose,  were  used  as  waste  paper,  or  as  a  kind  of 
papier-mache. 

But  why  should  the  '  True  History '  of  Celsus,  the 
Xctyo?  a\r]6r}<$,  or  Sermo  Verus,  excite  our  curiosity  1 
The  reason  is  quite  plain.  We  know  practically 
nothing  of  the  history  of  the  teaching  of  Christ  in 
the  first,  second,  and  even  third  centuries,  except 
what  has  been  transmitted  to  us  by  Christian  writers. 
It  is  an  old  rule,  however,  that  it  is  well  to  learn  from 
the  enemy  also,  —  "  Fas  est  et  ab  hoste  doceri."  Cel- 
sus was  a  resolute  foe  of  the  new  Christian  teaching, 
and  we  should,  at  all  events,  learn  from  his  treatise 
how  the  Christian  religion  appeared  in  the  eyes  of  a 
cultivated  man  of  the  second  century,  who,  it  seems, 
concurred  in  many  important  points  with  the  philo- 
sophical conception  cherished  in  the  Christian  church, 
or  at  least  was  familiar  with  it,  namely,  the  Logos 
idea ;  but  who  could  not  comprehend  how  men,  who 
had  once  understood  and  assimilated  a  view  of  the 
world  founded  on  the  Logos,  could  combine  with 


4  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

it  the  belief  in  Christ  as  the  incarnate  Logos.  To 
Celsus  the  Christian  religion  is  something  objective ; 
in  all  other  works  of  the  first  three  centuries  it  is, 
and  remains,  almost  entirely  subjective. 

This  could  hardly  be  otherwise,  for  a  religion  in 
its  first  inception  scarcely  exists  for  the  outer  world. 
What  at  that  time  were  Jerusalem  and  Palestine  in 
the  eyes  of  the  so-called  world  ?  A  province  yield- 
ing little  profit,  and  often  in  rebellion.  The  Jews 
and  their  religion  had  certainly  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  Rome  and  Athens  by  their  peculiarities  ; 
but  the  Jewish  sects  interested  the  classical  world 
much  less  than  the  sects  of  the  Platonic  and  Stoic 
schools.  Christians  were  regarded  as  Jews,  just  as, 
not  many  years  ago,  Jains  were  treated  by  us  as 
Buddhists,  Sikhs  as  Brahmans,  and  Buddhists,  Jains, 
Sikhs,  and  Brahmans  were  promiscuously  placed  in 
one  pile  as  Indian  idolaters.  How  should  the  dif- 
ferences which  distinguished  the  Christian  from  the 
Jew,  and  the  Jewish  Christian  from  the  heathen 
Christian,  have  been  understood  at  that  time  in 
Rome?  To  us,  naturally,  the  step  which  Paul  and 
his  associates  took  appears  an  enormous  one  —  one  of 
world-wide  import ;  but  of  what  interest  could  these 
things  be  outside  of  Palestine?  That  the  Jews  who 
looked  upon  themselves  as  a  peculiar  people,  who 
would  admit  no  strangers,  and  tolerate  no  marriages 
between  Jew  and  Gentile,  who,  in  spite  of  all  their 
disappointments  and  defeats,  energetically  clung  to 
their  faith  in  a  deliverer,  in  an  earthly  Messiah, 


THE   'TRUE   HISTORY'   OF   CELSUS  5 

and  in  the  coming  glory  of  their  nation  ;  that  they 
should  suddenly  declare  clean  what  they  had  always 
considered  unclean ;  that  they  should  transform  their 
national  spirit  into  a  universal  sympathy;  yes,  that 
they  should  recognise  their  Messiah  in  a  crucified 
malefactor,  indicate  a  complete  revolution  in  their 
history ;  but  the  race  itself  was  and  continued  to  be, 
in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  if  not  beneath  notice,  at 
least  an  object  of  contempt.  It  should  not,  therefore, 
surprise  us  that  no  classical  writer  has  given  us  a 
really  historical  account  of  the  Christian  religion,  or 
has  even  with  one  word  referred  to  the  wonderful 
events  which,  had  they  actually  taken  place  as 
described  in  the  Gospels,  would  have  stirred  the 
uttermost  corners  of  the  earth.  Celsus  is  the  only 
writer  of  the  second  century  who,  being  neither  Chris- 
tian nor  Jew,  was  not  only  acquainted  with  represen- 
tatives of  Christianity  and  Judaism,  but  had  also,  it 
would  seem,  carefully  read  portions  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments.  He  even  boasts  of  having  a  better 
knowledge  of  these  religions  than  many  of  their  ad- 
herents (II,  12).  That  such  a  man  considered  this 
new  Christian  sect  of  sufficient  importance  to  subject 
it  to  a  searching  investigation,  is  proof  of  his  deep 
insight,  and  at  the  same  time  of  the  increasing  power 
of  Christianity  as  a  religion  independent  of  Judaism. 
Who  this  Celsus  really  was,  it  is  not  easy  to  discover. 
Even  his  adversary,  Origen,  seems  to  know  but  little 
of  him  ;  at  any  rate  he  tells  us  nothing  of  him, — in- 
deed, we  are  even  still  in  doubt  about  his  date.  It  has 


6  THE  SILESIAN  HOESEHERD 

been  thought  that  he  is  the  Celsus  to  whom  Lucian 
(120-200  A.D.)  dedicated  his  work  on  the  false  Alex- 
ander. This  is  possible ;  but  Celsus  is  a  very  com- 
mon name,  and  Origen  speaks  of  two  men  of  this 
name  who  were  both  Epicureans  and  are  supposed 
to  have  lived  in  the  times  of  Nero  (54-68  A.D.)  and 
Hadrian  (118-138  A.D.).  It  has  been  argued  that 
the  latter  could  not  have  been  the  author  of  the 
Sermo  Verus,  because  it  apparently  mentions  the 
sect  of  the  Marcellians,  and  this  was  not  founded 
till  the  year  155  under  Bishop  Anicetus.  But 
Origen's  remark,  that  Celsus  may  have  outlived  the 
reign  of  Hadrian,  has  been  overlooked.  At  any  rate 
Origen  speaks  of  the  Sermo  Verus  as  a  work  long 
known,  and  as  he  did  not  die  until  the  year  253  A.D., 
in  his  time  the  work  of  Celsus  would  have  been 
recognised  as  of  considerable  age,  even  if  written 
after  the  year  155.  Much  learning  has  been  ex- 
pended on  the  identification  of  Celsus,  which  seems  to 
me  to  have  been  wasted.  It  is  remarkable  that  Ori- 
gen made  no  effort  to  become  personally  acquainted 
with  his  adversary.  He  leaves  the  question  open 
whether  he  is  the  same  Celsus  who  composed  two 
other  books  against  the  Christians  (Contra  Celsum, 
IV,  36).  At  the  end  of  his  book  he  speaks  of  him 
as  if  he  had  been  a  contemporary,  and  asserts  that  a 
second  book  by  him  against  the  Christians,  which 
has  either  not  yet  been  completed  or  has  not  yet 
reached  him,  shall  be  as  completely  refuted  as  the 
Sermo  Verus.  Such  language  is  only  used  of  a  con- 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  7 

temporary.  Could  it  be  proved  that  Celsus  was  a 
friend  of  Lucian,  then  we  should  know  that  in  the 
judgment  of  the  latter  he  was  a  noble,  truth-loving, 
and  cultivated  man.  It  was  not  Origen's  interest  to 
emphasise  these  aspects  of  his  opponent's  character  ; 
but  it  must  be  said  to  his  credit,  that  though  he  was 
much  incensed  at  some  of  the  charges  of  Celsus,  he 
never  attacked  his  personal  character.  Perhaps  it 
was  not  fair  in  Origen  to  accuse  Celsus  of  being 
ashamed  of  his  Epicureanism,  and  of  concealing  his 
own  philosophical  and  atheistic  convictions,  in  order 
to  obtain  an  easier  hearing  among  Jews  and  Chris- 
tians.1 This  does  not  appear  quite  fair,  for  it  was 
a  very  pardonable  device  for  Celsus  first  to  attack  a 
part  of  Christian  teaching  under  the  mask  of  a  Jew, 
who  represents  his  faith  as  the  older  and  more  re- 
spectable, and  seeks  to  convince  the  Christians  that 
they  would  have  done  better  had  they  remained  true 
to  the  religion  of  their  fathers.  On  the  contrary, 
as  Celsus,  whatever  he  may  have  been  except  a 
Jew,  could  not  with  a  good  conscience  have  under- 
taken an  actual  defence  of  Judaism,  it  was  quite  nat- 
ural that  he  should  choose  a  Jew  as  an  advocate  of 
the  Jewish  religion,  and  put  into  his  mouth,  like  a 
second  Philo,  ideas  which  at  all  events  sound  more 
Platonic  than  Epicurean.  Origen  was  entirely  justi- 
fied in  showing  that  in  this  process  Celsus  frequently 
forgot  his  part ;  and  this  he  did  with  much  skill. 
But  whatever  Celsus  may  have  been,  —  an  Epicu- 
1  Contra  Celsum,  I,  8. 


8  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

rean,  or,  as  has  occasionally  been  maintained,  a  Neo- 
platonist, —  he  was  at  all  events  no  mean  adversary 
and  certainly  not  unworthy  of  Origen's  steel.  If  not, 
why  should  Origen  have  felt  the  need  of  such  an 
earnest  refutation  ?  He  says,  certainly,  that  he  did 
it  only  at  the  request  of  his  old  friend  and  protector, 
Ambrosius.  But  that  is  what  many  writers  under 
similar  circumstances  have  said  and  still  say.  We 
have,  at  all  events,  lost  much  through  the  loss  (or 
destruction  ?)  of  all  manuscripts  of  Celsus.  Not  only 
was  he  acquainted  with  the  principal  philosophical 
schools  of  antiquity,  he  appears  also  to  have  studied 
zealously  the  religions  of  the  ancient  world  as  they 
were  known  at  that  time  to  the  learned,  especially 
in  Alexandria,  of  which  we  have  but  scant  know- 
ledge. Origen  expressly  states  (I,  14)  that  Celsus 
described  the  various  peoples  who  possessed  religious 
and  philosophical  systems,  because  he  supposed  that 
all  these  views  bore  a  certain  relationship  to  one  an- 
other. Without  a  doubt  much  has  been  here  lost  to 
us,  not  only  for  the  history  of  Greek  philosophy,  but 
also  for  the  history  of  Oriental  religions  and  philoso- 
phies, whose  representatives  at  that  time  sojourned  in 
Alexandria,  yet  as  to  whose  personal  influence  we  are 
almost  entirely  in  the  dark.  Celsus  is  presumed 
to  have  written  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Egyptians, 
the  Assyrians,  the  Jews,  Persians,  Odrysians,  Samo- 
thracians,  Eleusinians,  even  of  the  Samaneans,  i.e. 
the  Buddhists  (I,  24),  and  to  have  represented 
these  as  better  accredited  than  those  of  the  Jews. 


THE    'TRUE   HISTORY'   OF   CELSUS  9 

We  see  anew  what  treasures  were  stored  up  in 
Alexandria,  and  we  feel  all  the  more  deeply  their 
irrevocable  loss.  The  desire  and  the  hope  of  re- 
covering the  work  of  Celsus  were  therefore  quite 
natural  for  any  who  wished  to  penetrate  more 
deeply  into  the  spiritual  atmosphere  of  the  second 
and  third  centuries,  and  especially  for  such  as  strove 
to  understand  clearly  how  men  of  this  age,  versed  in 
philosophy,  such  as  Clement  and  Origen  himself, 
could  confess  Christianity,  or  become  converted  to 
it,  or  could  defend  it  against  other  philosophers 
without  in  the  least  becoming  untrue  to  their  philo- 
sophical convictions.  That  the  lower  classes  among 
Jews  and  Greeks  followed  the  new  teaching,  is  much 
more  intelligible,  even  without  wishing  to  lay  too 
much  stress  on  the  evidential  value  of  the  miracles 
at  that  time.  The  great  majority  were  accustomed 
to  miracles  ;  what  was  almost  entirely  lacking  was 
practical  religion.  The  Greek  thinkers  had  created 
systems  of  philosophy  and  morals,  but  the  traditional 
worship  had  degenerated  into  a  mere  spectacle. 
Even  among  the  Jews  the  old  religion  had  become  a 
rigid  temple  ritual,  which  offered  but  little  comfort 
and  hope  to  the  weak  heart  of  man.  In  the  eyes  of 
the  majority  of  the  philosophers  of  the  age  every  re- 
ligion was  only  pernicious  superstition,  good  enough 
for  the  masses,  but  scarcely  worth  consideration  by 
the  cultured.  That  Celsus  made  the  Christian 
religion  the  object  of  serious  treatment  and  refuta- 
tion, not  only  implies  a  subtle  and  unprejudiced 


10  THE   SILESIAN  HOKSEHERD 

view  of  his  age,  but  shows  us  at  the  same  time  how 
the  Christianity  of  that  period,  entirely  independent 
of  the  Jewish  religion,  had  gained  in  significance, 
and  had  even  in  the  eyes  of  a  heathen  philosopher 
begun  to  be  esteemed  as  something  important,  as 
something  dangerous,  as  something  that  had  to  be 
combated  with  philosophical  weapons. 

Christianity  is  especially  indebted  for  its  rapid 
spread  to  its  practical  side,  to  the  energy  of  its  love, 
which  was  bestowed  on  all  who  were  weary  and 
heavy  laden.  Christ  and  the  apostles  had  understood 
how  to  gather  around  them  the  poor,  the  sinners, 
the  most  despised  members  of  human  society.  They 
were  offered  forgiveness  of  their  sins,  love,  and  sym- 
pathy, if  they  merely  promised  to  amend  and  sin 
no  more.  Among  these  earliest  followers  of  Christ 
there  was  scarcely  a  change  of  religion  in  our  sense 
of  the  word.  Christianity  was  at  first  much  more 
a  new  life  than  a  new  religion.  The  first  disciples 
were  and  remained  Jews  in  the  eyes  of  the  world, 
and  that  they  came  from  the  most  despised  classes 
even  Origen  does  not  dispute.  Celsus  had  re- 
proached the  Christians  because  the  apostles,  around 
whose  heads  even  in  his  time  a  halo  had  begun  to 
shine,  had  been  men  of  bad  character,  criminals, 
fishermen,  and  tax-gatherers.  Origen  admits  that 
Matthew  was  a  tax-gatherer,  James  and  John  fisher- 
men, probably  Peter  and  Andrew  as  well ;  but  de- 
clares that  it  was  not  known  how  the  other  apostles 
gained  a  livelihood.  Even  that  they  had  been 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  11 

malefactors  and  criminals,  Origen  does  not  abso- 
lutely deny.  He  refers  to  the  letter  of  Barnabas, 
in  which  it  is  stated  "  that  Jesus  chose  men  as  his 
apostles  who  were  guilty  of  sin  more  than  all  other 
evil  doers.  "  *  He  relies  upon  the  words  of  Peter, 
when  he  says,  "  Depart  from  me  ;  for  I  am  a  sinful 
man,  O  Lord."2 

Paul,  in  like  manner,  says  in  his  epistle  to  Timothy,3 
"  This  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  accepta- 
tion, that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save 
sinners,  of  whom  I  am  chief." 

But  it  is  just  in  this  that  Origen  recognises  the 
divine  power  of  the  personality  and  the  teaching  of 
Christ,  that  by  means  of  it  men  who  had  been  deeply 
sunken  in  sins  could  be  raised  to  a  new  life ;  and  he 
declares  it  to  be  unjust  that  those  who  repented  of 
their  early  sins,  and  had  entered  into  a  pure  life,  well 
pleasing  to  God,  should  be  reproached  with  their  pre- 
vious sinfulness.  In  this  respect  he  makes,  indeed, 
no  distinction  between  the  apostles  and  such  men  as 
Phsedon  and  Polemo,  who  were  rescued  from  the  mire 
of  their  sins  through  philosophy  ;  and  he  recognises 
in  the  teaching  of  Christ  a  still  greater  force,  because 
it  had  proved  its  saving  and  sanctifying  power  with- 
out any  of  the  arts  of  learning  and  eloquence.  What 
the  apostles  were,  and  what  they  became  through  the 
influence  of  the  Gospel,  Origen  himself  explains  in 
the  words  of  Paul,  "For  we  also  were  aforetime 
foolish,  disobedient,  deceived,  serving  divers  lusts 

1  Contra  Celsum,  I,  63.  2  Luke  v.  8.  »  1  Tim.  i.  16. 


12  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

and  pleasures,  living  in  malice  and  envy,  and  hating 
one  another."1 

He  attributes  it  as  an  honour  to  the  apostles  that, 
even  if  their  self -accusations  were  extravagant,  they 
had  so  openly  acknowledged  their  sins,  in  order  to 
place  the  saving  influence  of  the  Gospel  in  a  clearer 
light.  But  the  fact  itself,  that  the  apostles  had 
been  sinful  and  despised  men,  Origen  honestly  ad- 
mits. We  also  know  with  what  true  humanity 
Christ  himself  treated  the  adulteress :  how  he  chal- 
lenged the  Pharisees,  if  they  themselves  were  free 
from  sin,  to  cast  the  first  stone  at  her.  And  who 
does  not  admire  the  aged  Pharisees  who  silently 
withdrew,  one  after  the  other,  from  the  oldest  to  the 
youngest,  without  casting  a  stone  ?  Have  we  many 
such  Pharisees  in  our  time?  Jesus,  however,  dis- 
missed the  adulteress  with  the  compassionate  words, 
"  Sin  no  more."  That  such  a  course  toward  sin- 
laden  mankind  by  one  who  knew  no  sin,  made  a  deep 
impression  on  the  masses,  is  perfectly  intelligible. 
We  see  a  remarkable  parallel  in  the  first  appearance 
of  Buddha  and  his  disciples  in  India.  He,  too,  was 
reproached  for  inviting  sinners  and  outcasts  to  him, 
and  extending  to  them  sympathy  and  aid.  He,  too, 
was  called  a  physician,  a  healer  of  the  sick  ;  and  we 
know  what  countless  numbers  of  ailing  mankind 
found  health  through  him.  All  this  can  be  quite 
understood  from  a  human  standpoint.  A  religion 
is,  in  its  nature,  not  a  philosophy ;  and  no  one  could 
1  Tit.  iii.  3. 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  13 

find  fault  with  Christianity  if  it  had  devoted  itself 
only  to  the  healing  of  all  human  infirmities,  and  had 
set  aside  all  metaphysical  questions.  We  know  how 
Buddha  also  personally  declined  all  philosophical 
discussion.  When  one  of  his  disciples  put  questions 
to  him  about  metaphysical  problems,  the  solution  of 
which  went  beyond  the  limits  of  human  reason,  he 
contended  that  he  wished  to  be  nothing  more  than 
a  physician,  to  heal  the  infirmities  of  mankind.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  says  to  Malunkyaputta :  "  What  have 
I  said  to  you  before  ?  Did  I  say, '  Come  to  me  and  be 
my  disciple,  that  I  may  teach  you  whether  the  world 
is  eternal  or  not ;  whether  the  world  is  finite  or  in- 
finite; whether  the  life-principle  is  identical  with 
the  body  or  not,  whether  the  perfect  man  lives  after 
death  or  not  ?  '  " 

Malunkyaputta  answered,  "  Master,  you  did  not  say 
that." 

Then  Buddha  continued,  "  Did  you  then  say, 
4 1  will  be  your  disciple,'  but  first  answer  these 
questions  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  disciple. 

Thereupon  Buddha  said  :  "  A  man  was  once 
wounded  by  a  poisoned  arrow,  and  his  friends  called 
in  an  experienced  physician.  What  if  the  wounded 
man  had  said,  I  shall  not  permit  my  wound  to  be  ex- 
amined until  I  know  who  wounded  me,  whether  he 
be  a  nobleman,  a  Brahman,  a  Vaisya,  or  a  Sudra ; 
what  his  name  is ;  to  what  family  he  belongs ;  if  he 
be  large  or  small,  or  of  medium  size,  and  how  the 


14  THE   SILESIAN   HORSEHERD 

weapon  with  which  he  wounded  me  looked.  How 
would  it  fare  with  such  a  man  ?  Would  he  not  cer- 
tainly succumb  to  his  wound  ?  " 

The  disciple  then  perceives  that  he  came  to  Buddha 
as  a  sick  man,  desiring  to  be  healed  by  him  as  a  physi- 
cian, not  to  be  instructed  about  matters  that  lie  far 
beyond  the  human  horizon. 

Buddha  has  often  been  censured  because  he  claimed 
for  his  religion  such  an  exclusively  practical  charac- 
ter, and  instead  of  philosophy  preached  only  moral- 
ity. These  censures  began  in  early  times ;  we  find 
them  in  the  famous  dialogues  between  Nagasena  and 
Milinda,  the  king  Menander,  about  100  B.C.  And 
yet  we  know  how,  in  spite  of  all  warnings  given  by 
the  founder  of  Buddhism,  this  religion  was  soon  en- 
tirely overgrown  with  metaphysics  ;  and  how,  finally, 
metaphysics  as  Abhidharma  found  an  acknowledged 
place  in  the  Sacred  Canon  of  the  Buddhists. 

Christianity  presents  a  parallel  case.  In  the  be- 
ginning it  sought  only  to  call  sinners  to  repentance. 
The  strong,  as  Jesus  himself  said,  do  not  require  a 
physician,  but  the  sick.  He  therefore  looked  upon 
himself  as  a  physician,  just  as  Buddha  had  done  in 
an  earlier  day.  He  declared  that  he  was  not  come 
to  destroy  the  law,  but  to  fulfil  it.  The  truth  of  his 
teaching  should  be  known  by  its  fruits,  and  there  is 
scarcely  a  trace  in  the  Gospels  of  philosophical  dis- 
cussions, or  even  of  attacks  on  the  schools  of  Greek 
philosophy.  Bat  even  here  it  was  soon  apparent  that, 
for  a  practical  reformation  of  conduct,  a  higher  conse- 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  15 

oration  is  essential.  It  was  admitted,  as  an  Indian 
philosopher  is  reputed  long  since  to  have  said  to 
Socrates,  that  no  one  could  understand  the  human  ele- 
ment who  had  not  first  understood  the  divine.  Men 
of  Greek  culture  who  felt  themselves  attracted  by 
the  moral  principles  of  the  little  Christian  congre- 
gations soon,  however,  wanted  more.  They  had  to 
defend  the  step  which  they  had  taken,  and  the  Chris- 
tianity which  they  wished  to  profess,  or  had  pro- 
fessed, against  their  former  friends  and  co-believers, 
and  this  soon  produced  the  so-called  apologies  for 
Christianity,  and  expositions  of  the  philosophical 
and  theological  views  which  constituted  the  founda- 
tion of  the  new  teaching.  A  religion  which  was  re- 
cruited only  from  poor  sinners  and  tax-gatherers 
could  scarcely  have  found  entry  into  the  higher 
circles  of  society,  or  maintained  itself  in  lecture- 
rooms  and  palaces  against  the  cultivated  members 
of  refined  circles,  if  its  defenders,  like  Buddha,  had 
simply  ignored  all  philosophical,  especially  all  meta- 
physical, questions. 

How  came  it,  then,  that  cultured  men  in  high 
stations,  entirely  independent,  professed  Christi- 
anity ?  how  did  they  make  their  friends  and  former 
co-believers  understand  that  such  a  step  was  bona 
fide  f  In  answering  this  question,  we  get  help  from 
Celsus,  as  well  as  his  opponent,  Origen. 

The  bridge  which  led  across  from  Greek  philoso- 
phy to  Christianity  was  the  Logos.  It  is  remarkable 
how  much  this  fundamental  doctrine  of  Christianity 


16  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

fell,  later  on,  into  the  background ;  how  little  it  is 
understood,  even  by  the  educated  of  our  own  time, 
and  how  often,  without  giving  it  any  consideration, 
they  have  cast  it  aside.  In  early  Christian  days  this 
was  probably  a  consequence  of  the  practical  and  polit- 
ical development  of  the  new  religion.  But  the  liv- 
ing nerve  of  the  Christian  religion,  which  was  its 
closest  bond  to  the  highest  spiritual  acquisitions  of 
the  ancient  Greek  world,  was  thus  severed.  First, 
the  Logos,  the  Word,  the  Son  of  God,  was  misunder- 
stood, and  mythology  was  employed  to  make  the 
dogma,  thus  misconceived,  intelligible.  In  modern 
times,  through  continued  neglect  of  the  Logos  doc- 
trine, the  strongest  support  of  Christianity  has  been 
cut  from  under  its  feet,  and  at  the  same  time  its  his- 
torical justification,  its  living  connection  with  Greek 
antiquity,  has  almost  entirely  passed  out  of  view. 
In  Germany  it  almost  appears  as  though  Goethe,  by 
his  Faust,  is  answerable  for  the  widespread  treat- 
ment of  the  Logos  idea  as  something  obscure,  in- 
comprehensible, mystical.  Many,  when  reading  the 
opening  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  "  In  the  beginning  was 
the  Word,"  say  to  themselves,  "  No  one  understands 
that,"  and  read  on.  He  who  does  not  earnestly  and 
honestly  make  an  effort  to  understand  this  beginning 
of  the  Gospel,  shows  that  he  is  but  little  concerned 
with  the  innermost  essence  of  Christianity,  as  clearly 
presented  to  us  in  the  Fourth  Gospel.  He  forgets 
that  not  only  faith,  but  thought,  pertains  to  a  re- 
ligion. It  is  no  excuse  to  say,  "  Did  not  the  learned 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  17 

Dr.  Faust  torment  himself  to  discover  what  '  the 
word'  here  meant,  and  did  not  find  it  out?"  He 
says  in  Goethe  :  — 

"  'Tis  writ :  '  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word ' ! 
I  pause  perplexed !    Who  now  will  help  afford  ? 
I  cannot  the  mere  Word  so  highly  prize, 
I  must  translate  it  otherwise." 

But  this  is  just  what  he  ought  not  do.  It  was 
not  necessary  to  translate  it  at  all ;  he  only  needed 
to  accept  the  Logos  as  a  technical  expression  of 
Greek  philosophy.  He  would  then  have  seen  that 
it  is  impossible  to  prize  the  Word  too  highly,  if 
we  first  learn  what  the  Word  meant  in  the  idiom 
of  contemporary  philosophy.  Not  even  to  a  Faust 
should  Goethe  have  imputed  such  ignorance  as  when 
he  continues  to  speculate  without  any  historical 
knowledge  :  — 

"  If  by  the  spirit  guided  as  I  read, 

'  In  the  beginning  was  the  Sense,'  Take  heed. 

The  import  of  this  primal  sentence  weigh, 

Lest  thy  too  hasty  pen  be  led  astray. 

Is  force  creative  then  of  sense  the  dower? 
*  In  the  beginning  was  the  Power.' 

Thus  should  it  stand ;  yet,  while  the  line  I  trace, 

A  something  warns  me  once  more  to  efface. 

The  spirit  aids,  from  anxious  scruples  freed, 

I  write :  *  In  the  beginning  was  the  Deed.' " 1 

Had    Goethe   wished   to    scourge    the    unhistorical 

exegesis  of  modern  theologians,  he  could  not  have 

1  Miss  Swanwick's  translation. 


18  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

done  so  better  than  by  this  attempt  of  an  interpre- 
ter of  the  Bible,  fancying  himself  illumined  by  the 
spirit,  but  utterly  destitute  of  all  knowledge  of  his- 
tory. Knowledge  of  the  history  of  the  Greek  phi- 
losophy of  the  first  and  second  centuries  after  Christ 
is  indispensable  to  the  understanding  of  such  a  word 
as  Logos  —  a  word  that  grew  up  on  Greek  soil,  and 
whose  first  roots  reach  far  into  the  distant  past  of  the 
Greek  mind ;  and  for  that  very  reason  not  admitting 
of  translation,  either  into  Hebrew  or  into  German. 
Like  many  other  termini  technici,  it  must  be  under- 
stood historically ;  just  as  logic,  metaphysic,  analytic, 
organon,  etc.,  can  only  be  apprehended  and  under- 
stood historically.  Now  it  is,  perhaps,  not  to  be  de- 
nied, that  even  now  a  majority  of  educated  readers 
either  perfunctorily  repeat  the  first  sentence  of  the 
Fourth  Gospel,  "In  the  beginning  was  the  Word," 
or  believe  that  something  lies  buried  therein  that  is 
beyond  the  depth  of  ordinary  men.  This,  of  course,  is 
partially  true,  and  it  cannot  be  otherwise  in  religions 
which  are  intended  not  only  for  the  young,  but  for  the 
wise  and  learned,  and  which  should  be  strong  meat  for 
adults,  and  not  merely  milk  for  babes.  The  fault  lies 
chiefly  in  the  translation,  in  that  it  should  have  been 
thought  necessary  to  translate  a  word  instead  of  per- 
mitting it  to  remain,  what  it  was,  a  foreign  word. 
This  becomes  still  wor&e  when,  as  for  instance,  in  cer- 
tain Oriental  languages,  the  newly  converted  Chris- 
tian has  to  read,  "  In  the  beginning  was  the  Noun  or 
the  Verb."  The  correct  translation  would,  of  course, 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  19 

be,  "In  the  beginning  was  the  Logos."  For  Logos 
is  not  here  the  usual  word  Logos,  but  a  terminus  techni- 
cus,  that  can  no  more  be  translated  out  of  the  lexicon 
than  one  would  think  of  etymologically  translating 
Messiah  or  Christ  as  the  "Anointed,"  or  Angelos 
as  "messenger"  or  "nuncio."  If  we  read  at  the 
beginning  of  the  Gospel,  "  In  the  beginning  was  the 
Logos,"  at  least  every  one  would  know  that  he  has  to 
deal  with  a  foreign,  a  Greek  word,  and  that  he  must 
gain  an  understanding  of  it  out  of  Greek  philosophy, 
just  as  with  such  words  as  atom,  idea,  cosmos,  etc. 
It  is  remarkable  what  human  reason  will  consent  to. 
Millions  of  Christians  hear  and  read,  "  In  the  begin- 
ning was  the  Word,"  and  either  give  it  no  thought, 
or  imagine  the  most  inconceivable  things,  and  then 
read  on,  after  they  have  simply  thrown  away  the 
key  to  the  Fourth  Gospel.  That  thought  and  re- 
flection also  are  a  divine  service  is  only  too  readily 
forgotten.  Repeated  reading  and  reflection  are 
necessary  to  make  the  first  verse  of  the  Fourth 
Gospel  accessible  and  intelligible  in  a  general  way  ; 
but  one  cannot  be  a  true  Christian  without  thinking 
and  reflecting. 

An  explanation  of  Logos  in  Greek  philosophy  is 
much  simpler  than  is  commonly  supposed.  It  is  only 
needful  not  to  forget  that  for  the  Greeks  thought 
and  word  were  inseparable,  and  that  the  same  term, 
namely,  Logos,  expressed  both,  though  they  dis- 
tinguished the  inner  from  the  outer  Logos.  It 
is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  aberrations  of  the 


20  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

human  mind,  to  imagine  that  there  could  be  a  word 
without  thought  or  a  thought  without  word.  The 
two  are  inseparable:  one  cannot  exist  or  be  even 
conceived  without  the  other.  I  believe  that  I 
have  clearly  shown  in  my  Science  of  Thought  that 
thought  without  word  and  word  without  thought 
are  impossible  and  inconceivable,  and  why  it  is  so. 
Here  is  the  first  key  to  a  historical  solution  of  the 
riddle  at  the  beginning  of  the  Fourth  Gospel.  We 
know  that  Greek  philosophy  after  making  every 
possible  effort  to  explain  the  world  mechanically, 
had  already  in  the  school  of  Anaxagoras  reached 
the  view  that  the  hylozoic  as  well  as  the  atomic 
theory  leaves  the  human  mind  unsatisfied  ;  and  that 
it  is  necessary  to  posit  as  the  origin  of  all  things 
a  thought  or  thinking  mind  that  manifests  itself 
in  the  universe.  This  was  the  nous,  the  mind,  of 
Anaxagoras.  He  could  just  as  well  have  called  it 
Logos,  for  the  word  was  in  use  even  before  the  time 
of  Anaxagoras,  to  express  that  reason,  the  rec- 
ognition of  whose  all-pervading  presence  in  the 
universe  was  the  great  step  in  advance  made  by 
the  system  of  Anaxagoras.  Even  Heraclitus  had 
divined  the  existence  of  reason  in  the  universe, 
and  had  applied  to  it  the  name  Logos.  While 
the  masses  recognised  in  Moira  or  Heimarmene 
only  destiny,  or  fate,  Heraclitus  declared,  that  the 
essence  of  this  Heimarmene  is  the  Logos,  the  Reason 
that  pervades  the  world.  This  is  the  oldest  expres- 
sion of  Hegel's  thought,  "What  is,  is  rational." 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  21 

We  must  not  suppose,  however,  that  Heraclitus  con- 
sidered this  Logos  as  identical  with  his  fire.  He 
merely  says  that  the  fire  is  subordinate  to  the  Logos, 
that  it  operates  Kara  TOV  \dyov,  according  to  the 
Logos,  or  (as  we  should  say)  rationally. 

Our  knowledge  of  the  entire  system  of  Heraclitus 
is  of  course  so  fragmentary  that  we  can  only  speak 
of  this,  as  of  many  other  points,  with  great  caution. 
The  same  is  true,  although  in  a  lesser  degree,  of  the 
system  of  Anaxagoras.  His  nous,  if  we  translate  it 
by  mind,  is  more  comprehensive  than  Logos.  We 
must  not,  however,  suppose,  that  this  nous  bore  a 
personal  character,  for  Anaxagoras  expressly  states 
that  it  is  a  ^/o^/^a,  a  thing,  even  though  he  would 
have  said  that  this  nous  regulated  all  things. 
Whether  an  impersonal  mind  is  conceivable,  was 
still  at  that  time  a  remote  problem.  Even  in  Plato 
we  cannot  clearly  determine  whether  he  represented 
his  nous  as  God  in  our  sense,  or  as  Sophia,  wisdom, 
a  word  which  with  him  often  replaces  nous.  It  is 
remarkable  that  in  his  genuine  works  Plato  does 
not  generally  use  the  word  Logos,  and  in  Aristotle 
as  well  nous  remains  the  first  term,  what  we  should 
call  the  divine  mind,  while  Logos  is  the  reason,  the 
causal  nexus,  the  oi>  eve/ca,  therefore  decidedly  some- 
thing impersonal,  if  not  unsubjective. 

Plato  is  the  first  who  distinguishes  between  essence 
and  being  in  the  primeval  cause,  or,  as  we  might  say, 
between  rest  and  activity.  He  speaks  of  an  eternal 
plan  of  the  world,  a  thought  of  the  world,  the  world 


22  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

as  a  product  of  thought,  inseparable  from  the  creator, 
but  still  distinguishable  from  him.  This  is  the  Pla- 
tonic world  of  "  Ideas,"  which  lies  at  the  foundation 
of  the  world  perceivable  by  the  senses,  the  phenome- 
nal world.  What  is  more  natural  or  more  reason- 
able than  this  thought  ?  If  the  world  has  an  author, 
what  can  we  imagine  as  reasonable  men,  but  that 
the  thought,  the  plan  of  the  world,  belongs  to  the 
author,  that  it  was  thought,  and  thereby  realised  for 
the  first  time  ?  Now  this  plan,  this  idea,  was  the 
inner  Logos,  and  as  every  thought  finds  its  imme- 
diate expression  in  a  word,  so  did  this  one,  which 
was  then  called  the  outer  Logos.  The  outer  was 
not  possible  without  the  inner,  even  as  a  word 
is  impossible  without  mind  and  reason.  But  the 
inner  Logos  also  first  realises  itself  in  the  outer,  just 
as  the  reasonable  thought  can  only  be  made  real  in 
the  word.  This  character  of  the  Logos  as  thought 
and  word,  at  once  capable  of  distinction  and  yet 
undifferentiated  and  inseparable,  is  of  the  highest 
importance  for  Christian  speculation  ;  without  an 
exact  comprehension  of  it,  we  shall  see  that  the 
relation  of  the  Son  to  the  Father  as  we  find  it 
explained  by  Clemens  and  other  fathers  of  the 
church,  remains  dark  and  misty.  We  have  no  con- 
cept without  a  word,  and  philology  has  shown  us 
how  every  word,  even  the  most  concrete,  is  based 
on  a  concept.  We  cannot  think  of  "  tree  "  without 
the  word  or  a  hieroglyphic  of  some  kind  We  can 
even  say  that,  as  far  as  we  are  concerned,  there  is 


THE  'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  23 

no  tree,  except  in  language,  for  in  the  nature  of 
things  there  are  only  oaks  or  beeches,  but  not  and 
never  a  tree.  And  what  is  true  of  tree  is  true  of 
all  words,  or  to  speak  with  Plato,  of  all  ideas,  or  to 
speak  with  the  Stoics,  of  all  Logoi.  There  are  no 
doubt  conjurers  who  pretend  to  be  able  to  think 
without  words,  and  even  take  no  little  pride  in  be- 
ing able  to  perform  this  trick.  They  forget  only  too 
often  that  their  inexpressible  thoughts  are  nothing 
but  obscure  feelings,  in  fact,  they  do  not  even  dis- 
tinguish between  presentation  and  idea,  and  forget 
that  when  we  speak  of  words,  we  do  not  understand 
by  them  mere  mimicry  of  sound  or  interjections,  but 
only  and  exclusively  intelligible  words,  that  is,  such 
as  are  based  on  concepts  and  are  derived  from  roots. 
The  old  Greek  philosophers,  probably  favoured  by 
their  language,  appear  never  to  have  forgotten  the 
true  relation  between  Logos  and  Logos,  and  their 
thought  finally  resulted  in  a  view  of  the  world 
founded  upon  it.  Although  it  is  now  the  custom 
to  speak  slightingly  of  the  later  Platonists,  we  should 
always  recognise  that  we  owe  to  them  the  preserva- 
tion of  this,  the  most  precious  jewel  out  of  the  rich 
storehouse  of  Greek  philosophy,  that  the  world  is 
the  expression  and  realisation  of  divine  thought, -that 
it  is  the  divine  word  expressed. 

We  cannot  here  enter  into  the  various  phases  in 
which  Plato  and  his  followers  presented  these  ideas. 
At  times  they  are  represented  as  independent  of  the 
Creator,  as  models,  as  golden  statues,  to  which  the 


24  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

creative  mind  looks  up.  Soon,  however,  they  are 
conceived  as  thoughts  of  this  mind,  as  something 
secondary,  created,  sometimes  also  as  something  in- 
dependent, as  much  so  as  is  the  Son  in  relation 
to  his  Father.  The  whole  Logos,  with  all  ideas, 
became  in  this  manner  the  first-born  Son  of  the 
Creator,  yet  so  that  the  Father  could  not  be  Father 
without  the  Son,  or  the  Son  without  the  Father,  Son. 
All  these  distinctions,  insignificant  as  they  may 
appear  from  a  purely  philosophical  point  of  view, 
demand  attention  because  of  the  influence  that  they 
afterward  exerted  on  Christian  dogma,  especially  on 
that  of  the  Trinity  —  a  dogma  which,  however  spe- 
cifically Christian  it  may  appear  to  be,  must  still  in 
all  its  essential  features  be  traced  back  to  Greek 
elements. 

It  is  certainly  remarkable  that  Jewish  philosophy 
also  developed  on  very  similar  lines,  of  course  not 
with  the  purity  and  exactness  of  the  Greek  mind, 
but  still  with  the  same  object  in  view,  —  to  bring 
the  reason  and  wisdom  recognised  in  nature  into 
renewed  connexion  with  their  supernatural  Jehovah. 
Through  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon  and  similar  works 
the  Jews  were  well  acquainted  with  Wisdom,  who 
says  of  herself  (viii.  22  ff.)  :  "  The  Lord  possessed 
me  in  the  beginning  of  his  way,  before  his  works 
of  old.  I  was  set  up  from  everlasting,  from  the 
beginning,  or  ever  the  earth  was.  .  .  .  Before  the 
mountains  were  settled,  before  the  hills  was  I  brought 
forth.  .  .  .  When  he  prepared  the  heavens,  I  was 


THE   'TRUE   HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  25 

there :  when  he  set  a  compass  upon  the  face  of  the 
depth.  .  .  .  Then  I  was  by  him,  as  a  master  work- 
man :  and  I  was  daily  his  delight,  rejoicing  always 
before  him."  These  and  similar  thoughts  were  fa- 
miliar to  Jewish  thinkers  (see  Proverbs  viii.  andix., 
Job  xxviii.  12,  Ecclesiasticus  i.  4),  and  it  was  nat- 
ural that,  in  coming  in  contact  with  Greek  philos- 
ophy, especially  in  Alexandria,  they  should  seek  to 
recognise  again  this  traditional  conception  of  divine 
Wisdom  in  the  Logos  of  Greek  philosophers.  We 
see  this  most  clearly  in  Philo,  a  contemporary  of 
Christ,  of  whom  it  is  often  difficult  to  say  whether 
he  reasons  more  as  a  Greek  or  as  a  Jew.  While  the 
Greeks  had  almost  lost  sight  of  the  bridge  between 
the  world  and  God  by  abstraction,  the  Jews,  through 
mistaken  reverence,  had  so  far  removed  the  Creator 
above  his  creation  that  on  both  sides  the  need  of 
mediation  or  a  mediator  was  deeply  felt.  The  Jew- 
ish God  was  little  better  than  the  Epicurean.  If 
the  Epicureans  taught  that  there  probably  is  a  God, 
but  that  the  world  is  of  no  concern  to  Him,  so  among 
the  Jews  of  the  first  century  gnostic  ideas  prevailed, 
according  to  which  not  the  highest  but  a  subordinate 
God  created  and  ruled  the  world.  The  task  of  cre- 
ation seemed  unworthy  of  the  supreme  God.  Philo 
therefore  seized  the  Stoic  idea  of  the  Logos  or  Logoi 
in  order  to  bring  his  transcendental  God  again  into 
relation  with  the  visible  world.  The  most  important 
attributes  and  powers  of  God  were  hypostatised  as  be- 
ings who  participated  in  the  creation  and  government 


26  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

of  the  world.  Philo's  God  first  of  all  creates  or  pos- 
sesses within  himself  a  world  that  is  conceived,  an 
invisible  world,1  which  is  also  called  the  world  of 
ideas2  or  the  idea  of  ideas.3  These  ideas  are  the 
types4  of  all  things,  and  the  power  by  which  God 
created  them  is  often  called  Sophia  or  Episteme, 
wisdom  or  knowledge.5  This  world  of  ideas  in  its 
entirety  corresponds,  as  is  readily  seen,  to  the  Greek 
Logos,  the  separate  types  to  the  Platonic  ideas  or 
the  Stoic  Logoi. 

The  entire  Logos,  or  the  sum  of  Ideas,  is  called 
by  Philo,  •  entirely  independent  of  Christianity,  the 
true  Son  of  God,  while  the  realised  world  of  Chris- 
tian teaching  passes  as  the  second  Son.  If  the  first 
Logos  is  occasionally  called  the  image  or  shadow  of 
God,  the  world  of  sense  is  the  image  of  the  image, 
the  shadow  of  the  shadow.  More  logically  expressed, 
God  would  be  the  causa  efficiens,  matter  the  causa 
materialis^  the  Logos  the  causa  instrumentalis,  while 
the  goodness  of  God  is  sometimes  added  as  the  causa 
finalis.  At  the  same  time  we  also  see  here  the  dif- 
ference between  the  working  of  the  Jewish  and  Greek 
minds.  In  the  Old  Testament  and  in  Philo,  the  So- 
phia or  wisdom  of  God  becomes  a  half  mythological 
being,  a  goddess  who  is  called  the  mother,  and  even 
the  nurse,6  of  all  beings.  She  bore  with  much  labour 
o«ut  of  the  seed  of  God,7  as  Philo  says,  the  only  and 


8  Idta  TWV  IdeQv.  *  TrapadeiyfJiara. 

6  Philo,  vol.  I,  p.  106.     «  ne-fiv-n.     7  De  Ebriet.,  VIII,  1,  361  f, 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  27 

beloved  visible  Son,  that  is  to  say,  this  Cosmos.  This 
Cosmos  is  called  by  him  the  Son  of  God,1  the  only 
begotten,2  while  the  first  Logos  is  the  first-born,3  and 
as  such  often  coincides  with  the  Sophia  and  its 
activity.4  He  is  also  called  the  elder  son,6  and  as 
such  is  distinguished  from  a  younger  son,6  from  the 
real,  visible  world.  'But  this  divine  Sophia  may  not, 
according  to  Philo,  any  more  than  God  Himself,  come 
into  direct  contact  with  impure  matter.  According 
to  him  this  contact  occurs  through  the  instrumen- 
tality of  certain  powers,7  which  in  part  correspond  to 
the  Greek  Logoi,  and  which  in  his  poetic  language 
are  also  represented  as  angels.8  Philo  says  in  plain 
terms  that  the  eternal  Logoi,  that  is  the  Platonic 
ideas,  are  commonly  called  angels. 

We  see  by  this  in  how  misty  an  atmosphere  Philo 
lived  and  wrote,  and  we  may  be  certain  that  he 
was  not  the  only  one  who  in  this  manner  blended 
the  Jewish  religion  with  Greek  philosophy.  In  the 
Samaritan  theology  also,  in  Onkelos  and  Jonathan, 
traces  of  the  Logos  idea  are  to  be  found.9  If  we  now 
observe  in  the  Fourth  Gospel,  somewhere  in  the  first 
half  of  the  second  century,  this  same  amalgamation 
of  Christian  doctrine  with  Platonic  philosophy,  only 
in  a  much  clearer  manner,  we  can  scarcely  doubt  from 


1  vl&s  rov  0eov. 

*  irpwrbyovos.  *  <ro<f>La  =  Oeov  \6yos. 

*  rpcfffivrepos  vl6s.  *  ve&repos  vlbs  rov  6cov. 

8  M.  M.,  Theosophy  and  Psychological  Religion,  p.  406. 

*  Lilcke,  Commentary  on  the  Gospel  of  John. 


28  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

what  source  the  ideas  of  the  Logos  as  the  only  begot- 
ten Son  of  God,  and  of  the  divine  wisdom,  originally 
flowed.  Christian  theologians  are  more  inclined  to 
find  the  first  germs  of  these  Christian  dogmas  in  the 
Old  Testament,  and  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  in 
the  minds  of  the  authors  of  some  of  the  books  of  the 
Old  Testament  analogous  ideas  struggle  for  expres- 
sion. But  they  are  always  tinctured  with  mythol- 
ogy, and  among  the  prophets  and  philosophers  of 
the  Old  Testament  there  is  absolutely  no  trace  of 
a  truly  philosophical  conception  of  the  Logos,  such 
as  confronts  us  as  a  result  of  centuries  of  thought 
among  the  Platonists  and  Neo-Platonists,  the  Stoics 
and  Neo-Stoics.  We  look  in  vain  in  Palestine  for  a 
word  like  Logos,  for  a  conception  of  the  Cosmos  as 
the  expression  of  a  rationally  thinking  mind,  espe- 
cially for  the  Logoi  as  the  species  of  the  Logos,  as 
the  primeval  thoughts  and  types  of  the  universe. 
It  is  difficult  to  understand  why  theologians  should 
have  so  strenuously  endeavoured  to  seek  the  germs 
of  the  Logos  doctrine  among  the  Jews  rather  than 
the  Greeks,  as  if  it  was  of  any  moment  on  which 
soil  the  truth  had  grown,  and  as  if  for  purely  specu- 
lative truths,  the  Greek  soil  had  not  been  ploughed 
far  deeper  and  cultivated  more  thoroughly  than  the 
Jewish.  That  Philo  found  employment  for  Platonic 
ideas,  and  especially  for  the  Stoic  Logos,  nay,  even 
for  the  Logoi,  in  his  own  house,  and  that  other  phi- 
losophers went  so  far  as  to  declare  the  fundamental 
truths  of  Greek  philosophy  to  have  been  borrowed 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  29 

from  the  Old  Testament,  is  well  known ;  but  modern 
researches  have  rendered  such  ideas  impossible.  The 
correspondences  to  the  Greek  Logos  that  are  found 
in  the  Old  Testament  are  of  great  interest,  in  so  far 
as  they  make  the  later  amalgamation  of  Semitic  and 
Aryan  ideas  historically  more  intelligible,  and  also 
in  so  far  as  —  like  the  correspondences  to  be  found 
among  the  East  Indians  and  even  the  red  Indians 1  — 
they  confirm  the  truth  or  at  least  the  innate  human 
character  of  a  Logos  doctrine.  But  wherever  we 
encounter  the  word  Logos  outside  of  Greece,  it  is, 
and  remains,  a  foreign  word,  a  Hellenic  thought. 

Jewish  philosophers,  while  they  adopted  the  word, 
only  filled  their  old  skins  with  new  wine,  with  the 
natural  consequence  that  the  wine  burst  the  old 
skins  ;  but  without  spilling.  For  it  was  this  which, 
in  the  hands  of  such  men  as  the  writer  of  the  Fourth 
Gospel,  as  Hippolytus,  Clement,  Origen,  and  the 
best  of  the  church  fathers,  gave  them  the  strength 
and  enthusiasm  to  triumph  over  the  world,  and 
especially  over  the  strongholds  of  heathen  religion, 
and  even  over  Greek  philosophy.  Had  the  Fourth 
Evangelist  wished  to  say  that  Christ  was  the  divine 
Sophia  or  the  Shekinah,  or,  as  in  Job,  Wisdom  as 
the  fear  of  God,  would  he  have  said,  "  In  the  begin- 
ning was  the  Logos,  and  the  Logos  became  flesh,  and 
lived  among  us,  and  we  saw  his  glory,  a  glory  as  of 
the  only  begotten  Son  of  the  Father,  full  of  grace 
and  truth?"  Why  not  take  the  facts  just  as  they 
1 M.  M.,  Theosophy  and  Psychological  Religion,  p.  383. 


30  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

are,  and  why  wish  to  improve  that  which  requires 
no  human  improvement  ?  The  Christian  doctrine  is 
and  remains  what  it  is  ;  it  rests  on  an  indestructible 
arch,  supported  on  one  side  by  the  Old  Testament 
and  on  the  other  by  Greek  philosophy,  each  as  indis- 
pensable as  the  other.  We  forget  only  too  readily 
how  much  Christianity,  in  its  victory  over  Greek  phi- 
losophy, owes  to  this  very  philosophy.  Christianity 
could  no  doubt  have  achieved  the  moral  and  social 
regeneration  of  the  people  without  these  weapons  of 
the  Greek  mind  ;  but  a  religion,  especially  in  the  age 
of  the  downfall  of  Greek  and  Roman  philosophy,  must 
have  been  armed  for  battle  with  the  best,  the  most 
cultured,  and  the  most  learned  classes  of  society,  and 
such  a  battle  demanded  a  knowledge  of  the  weapons 
which  had  been  forged  in  the  schools  of  Greek  phi- 
losophy. We  cannot  therefore  put  too  high  a  value 
on  the  Fourth  Gospel  for  a  knowledge  of  the  intel- 
lectual movement  of  that  day.  It  is  true  that  a 
religion  need  not  be  a  philosophy,  but  it  must  not 
owe  philosophy  any  answer.  Small  as  may  be  the 
emphasis  that  we  now  lay  on  the  Logos  doctrine,  in 
that  period  it  was  the  centre,  the  vital  germ  of  the 
whole  Christian  teaching.  If  we  read  any  of  the 
writings  of  Athanasius,  or  of  any  of  the  older  church 
fathers,  we  shall  be  surprised  to  see  how  all  of  them 
begin  with  the  Word  (Logos)  as  a  fixed  point  of 
departure,  and  then  proceed  to  prove  that  the  Word 
is  the  Son  of  God,  and  finally  that  the  Son  of  God 
is  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  Religious  and  philosophical 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'  OF  CELSUS  31 

are  here  closely  related.  If  the  Christian  philoso- 
phers gain  on  the  one  hand  the  divinity  of  the  Son 
of  God,  on  the  other  hand  they  retain  the  rationality 
of  the  created  universe.  That  "  the  ALL  is  Logos, 
is  Word  or  Reason,"  was  at  that  time  as  much  the 
battle  cry  of  the  prevailing  philosophy  as  the  con- 
trary has  now  become  the  battle  cry  of  the  Darwin- 
ians, who  seek  to  explain  species,  kinds,  i.e.  the 
Logoi,  the  divine  ideas,  as  the  products  not  of  the 
originating  Mind,  but  of  natural  selection,  of  envi- 
ronment or  circumstance,  of  the  survival  of  the  fit- 
test. And  what  is  the  fittest,  if  not  the  rational, 
the  Platonic  "Good,"  that  is,  the  Logos  ?  Why,  then, 
turn  back  to  the  stone  age  of  human  thinking,  why 
again  turn  nature  into  wood,  when  for  thousands  of 
years  Greek  philosophers  and  Christian  thinkers  have 
recognised  her  as  something  spiritual,  as  a  world 
of  eternal  ideas  ?  How  would  such  men  as  Herder, 
Schelling,  and  Hegel  have  smiled  at  such  a  view  of 
the  world  !  Yes,  Darwin  himself  would  be  ashamed 
of  his  followers,  for  he  saw,  though  not  always  clearly, 
that  everything  in  this  sphere  presupposes  something 
beyond,  and  in  the  loftiest  utterance  of  his  book  he 
demanded  an  origin,  yes,  an  originator.  In  the  writ- 
ings of  the  philosophical  church  fathers  we  con- 
stantly hear  more  of  the  Logos  which  was  in  the 
beginning,  and  through  which  all  things  were  made, 
than  of  God,  who  in  the  beginning  created  heaven 
and  earth. 

And  in  this  lies   the  great   interest  of   the  lost 


32  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

treatise  of  Celsus.  Had  he  been  an  Epicurean,  as 
Origen  supposed,  he  would  have  had  no  personal  in- 
terest in  the  Logos.  But  this  Logos  had  become  at 
that  time  to  such  an  extent  the  common  property  of 
Greek  philosophy,  that  the  Jew,  under  whose  mask 
Celsus  at  the  outset  attacked  the  Christians,  could 
quite  naturally  express  his  willingness  to  acknow- 
ledge the  Logos  as  the  Son  of  God.  Origen,  it  is 
true,  says  that  the  Jew  has  here  forgotten  his  part, 
for  he  had  himself  known  many  Jewish  scholars,  no 
one  of  whom  would  have  acknowledged  such  an  idea. 
This  shows  that  Origen  did  not  know  the  works  of 
Philo,  who  would  certainly  have  offered  no  objection 
to  such  a  doctrine,  for  he  himself  calls  the  Logos  the 
first-born  Son  (vto?  Trpwrdovos).1  When  therefore 
Celsus,  the  heathen  philosopher,  admits  through  the 
mouth  of  the  Jew  that  the  Logos  is  the  Son  of  God, 
he  is  merely  on  his  guard  against  the  identification 
of  any  individual  with  the  Son  of  God  and  indi- 
rectly with  the  Logos,  that  is  to  say,  he  does  not 
wish  to  be  a  Christian.  At  all  events  we  see  how 
general  was  the  view  at  that  time,  that  the  whole 
creation  was  the  realisation  of  the  Logos,  nay,  of 
the  Son  of  God ;  that  God  uttered  Himself,  revealed 
Himself,  in  the  world  ;  that  each  natural  species  is  a 
Word,  a  Thought  of  God,  and  that  finally  the  idea 
of  the  entire  world  is  born  of  God,  and  is  thereby 
the  Son  of  God. 

This  idea  of  a  Son  of  God,  although  in  its  philo- 

1  M.  M.,  Theosophy,  p.  404. 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  33 

sophical  sense  decidedly  Greek,  had,  it  is  true,  cer- 
tain preparatory  parallels  among  the  Jews,  on  which 
Christian  theologians  have  laid  only  too  great  stress. 
In  the  fifth  book  of  Moses  we  read,  "  You  are  chil- 
dren of  the  Lord  your  God."  In  the  book  of  Enoch, 
chap,  cv.,  the  Messiah  is  also  called  the  Son  of  God, 
and  when  the  tempter  says  to  Christ,  Matthew  iv.  1, 
"  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,"  it  means  the  same  as 
"If  thou  be  the  Messiah." 

The  question  is  :  Is  this  Jewish  conception  of  the 
Son  of  God  as  Messiah  the  Christian  as  well  ?  Such 
it  has  been,  at  least  in  one  book  of  the  Christian 
church,  in  the  Fourth  Gospel,  and  it  found  its  ex- 
pression first  in  the  representation  that  Joseph  was 
descended  from  David  ;  secondly,  in  the  belief  that 
Jesus  had  no  earthly  father.  We  see  here  at  once  the 
first  clear  contradiction  between  Christian  philosophy 
and  Christian  mythology.  If  Joseph  were  not  the 
father  of  Jesus,  how  could  Joseph's  descent  from 
David  prove  the  royal  ancestry  of  Jesus  ?  And  how 
does  it  follow  from  his  being  the  Son  of  God  that 
he  had  no  earthly  father?  Although  he  was  the 
Son  of  God,  he  was  called  the  son  of  the  carpenter, 
and  his  brothers  and  sisters  were  well  known.  The 
divine  birth  demands  the  human  ;  without  it,  it  is 
entirely  unintelligible.  We  know  from  the  recently 
discovered  ancient  Syrian  translation  of  the  Gospels 
that  the  two  streams  of  thought  —  that  Christ  was 
the  Son  of  God,  and  that  at  the  same  time  he  had 
an  earthly  father,  —  could  flow  side  by  side,  quite 


34  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

undisturbed,  without  the   one  rendering  the  other 
turbid. 

It  was  the  misunderstanding  of  the  spiritual  birth 
of  Christ  from  his  divine  Father,  and  even  from  his 
divine  mother  (the  Ruach,  feminine,  the  holy  spirit), 
that  appeared  to  make  it  necessary  to  deny  him  an 
earthly  father,  and  to  assert  that  even  his  human 
mother  did  not  conceive  and  give  birth  to  him  in  the 
ordinary  way.  In  the  earliest  period  of  the  Chris- 
tian church  this  was  otherwise.  It  was  considered 
at  that  time  that  in  Christ  the  divine  sonship  went 
hand  in  hand  with  the  human,  and  further  that  the 
one  without  the  other  would  lose  its  true  meaning. 
In  a  Syrian  palimpsest,  which  was  recently  discovered 
in  the  convent  at  Mount  Sinai  by  Mrs.  Smith  Lewis, 
and  which,  being  written  in  the  fifth  century,  pre- 
supposes a  still  older  Syrian  translator,  we  now  see  an 
original  Greek  text,  probably  of  the  second  century, 
in  which  the  Davidic  genealogy  of  Joseph  (Mat- 
thew i.  16)  is  really  the  genealogy  of  Jesus,  for  it 
is  there  said,  "  Jacob  begat  Joseph  ;  Joseph  to  whom 
the  virgin  Mary  was  espoused  begat  Jesus,  who  is 
called  Christ."  In  the  twenty-first  verse  it  reads 
also,  "  And  she  shall  bear  him  a  son,"  and  in  the 
twenty-fifth  verse,  "  And  took  unto  him  his  wife,  and 
she  bare  him  a  son,  and  he  called  his  name  Jesus." 
This  purely  human  birth  of  Jesus  does  not  in  any 
manner  disturb  the  belief  in  his  true  divine  origin, 
as  the  Son  of  God,  as  the  first-born,  the  image  of 
God,  whose  name  was  called  the  Word  of  God,  i.e. 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  35 

Logos.  On  the  contrary,  it  removes  all  difficulties 
with  which  so  many  Christians  have  contended, 
openly  or  in  silence,  when  they  asked  themselves 
how  it  is  possible  to  conceive  a  human  birth,  a 
human  mother,  without  a  human  father.  Even  a 
deification  of  the  mother,  or  even  of  the  grand- 
mother, such  as  is  proclaimed  by  the  Roman  church, 
does  not  help  any  honest  soul  out  of  this  mire  which 
has  been  made  by  well-meaning  but  ignorant  theo- 
logians. The  old  Christian  philosophers,  the  old 
church  fathers,  saints,  and  martyrs,  alone  give  us 
light  and  leading.  As  long  as  we  conceive  the 
divine  sonship  of  Christ  from  the  Jewish  or  Greek 
mythological  standpoint,  the  true  divine  nature  of 
Christ  remains  a  mere  phrase.  When,  however,  we 
call  to  our  aid  the  most  orthodox  and  enlightened 
men  of  the  second  century,  we  find  that  such  men 
as  Justin,  Tatian,  Theophilus,  Athenagoras,  Apollo- 
nius1  and  Clement,  to  say  nothing  of  Origen,  be- 
lieved in  Jesus  as  the  only  begotten  son  of  God2 
in  the  sense  which  these  words  had  at  that  time  for 
every  one  who  spoke  and  thought  in  Greek.  This 
Son  is  often  represented  as  distinguishable  from  the 
Father,  but  not  as  separable.  Of  a  Son  of  God  in 
the  Jewish  sense  of  the  word,  of  a  descendant  of 
David,  the  evangelist  would  never  have  said  that  all 
things  were  made  by  him.  That  could  be  affirmed 
only  of  the  true  Son  of  God,  of  the  Logos,  as  the 

1  See  the  Deutsche  Rundschau,  1895,  XXXIII,  p.  47. 

2  The  (Mvoyev))!  vi6j  TOV  deov. 


36  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

thought  of  God,  which  is  uttered  in  the  visible 
world. 

In  what  sense  this  Logos  was  recognised  in  Jesus, 
is  certainly  a  difficult  question,  and  here  the  work  of 
Celsus  would  have  been  of  great  use  to  us,  for  he 
expressly  states  that  he  has  no  objection  to  the  Logos 
idea ;  but  how  philosophers  could  accept  an  incarna- 
tion 1  of  this  Logos  in  Jesus,  was  beyond  his  under- 
standing. It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  matter  and 
flesh  were  held  by  Celsus  to  be  something  so  unclean, 
that  according  to  him  the  Deity  could  only  operate 
on  matter  by  means  of  an  endless  number  of  inter- 
mediaries (a  true  foetus  ceonum).  This  obscurity 
in  the  conception  of  Jesus  as  Logos  by  the  Christian 
church  is  the  reason  why  Celsus  does  not  regard 
Joseph  as  the  natural  father  of  Jesus,  but  Panthera. 
Origen,  of  course,  denounces  this  very  indignantly ; 
and  the  legend  is  nothing  more  than  one  of  the  many 
calumnies,  which  are  nearly  always  to  be  traced 
among  the  opponents  of  a  new  religion  and  its 
founders.  For  the  true  nature  and  the  divine  birth 
of  Christ,  as  Origen  himself  seems  to  feel,  such  a 
story  would  naturally  have  no  significance  whatever. 
It  remains  true,  however,  that  no  writer  of  authority 
of  the  second  and  third  centuries  has  clearly  ex- 
plained in  what  sense  the  Christian  church  con- 
ceived Jesus  as  the  Logos. 

Three  conceptions  are  possible.  The  first  appears 
to  have  been  that  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  that  the 

1  '0  X670J  (?•&/>£  £y&  ero. 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'   OF  CELSUS  37 

Logos,  in  all  its  fulness,  as  the  Son,  who  in  the  be- 
ginning was  with  God  and  was  God,  by  whom  all 
things  were  made,  became  flesh  in  Jesus,  and  that  this 
Jesus  gave  to  those  who  believed  in  him  as  Logos  the 
power  themselves  to  become  sons  of  God,  born  like 
him  not  of  blood  nor  of  the  will  of  flesh,  but  of  God. 
This  may  also  explain  why  the  legendary  details  of 
the  birth  of  Christ  are  never  mentioned  in  the  Fourth 
Gospel.  But  however  clear  the  view  of  the  evan- 
gelist is,  it  nevertheless  remains  obscure  how  he  con- 
ceived the  process  of  this  incarnation  of  an  eternal 
being,  transcending  time  and  space  and  comprehend- 
ing the  whole  world,  which  lived  among  them,  which, 
as  is  said  in  the  Epistle  of  John,  was  from  the  begin- 
ning, that  which  we  have  heard,  that  which  we  have 
seen  with  our  eyes,  that  which  we  have  beheld  and 
our  hands  handled,  the  Word  of  life,1  etc.  If  we 
think  ourselves  for  a  moment  into  this  view,  into 
the  unity  of  the  Divine  that  lives  and  moves  in  the 
Father,  in  the  Logos,  and  in  all  souls  that  have  re- 
cognised the  Logos,  we  shall  comprehend  the  mean- 
ing of  the  statement,  that  whoever  believes  in  Jesus 
is  born  of  God,  that  whoever  has  the  Son,  has  the  life. 
To  have  the  truth,  to  have  eternal  life,  to  have  the 
Son,  to  have  the  Father,  all  this  then  signifies  one 
and  the  same  thing  for  the  evangelist,  and  for  the 
greatest  among  the  ante-Nicene  fathers. 

But  second,  the  conception  that  the  Logos  was 
born   in  Jesus   might  simply   signify   the   same   as 

1  \6yos  TTJS 


38  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

Philo  means,  when  he  speaks  of  the  Logos  in  Abra- 
ham and  in  the  prophets.  This  would  be  intel- 
ligible from  Philo's  point  of  view  in  relation  to 
Abraham,  but  clearly  does  not  go  far  enough  to 
explain  the  deification  of  Christ  as  we  find  it  in  all 
the  Evangelists. 

There  remains  possible  therefore  only  a  third  con- 
ception. Philo  knows  very  well  that  God  has  an  in- 
finite number  of  powers  or  ideas,  all  of  which  might 
be  called  Logoi,  and  together  constitute  the  Logos. 
If  now,  among  these  Logoi,  that  of  humanity  were 
conceived  as  highest,  and  Jesus  were  regarded  as  the 
incarnate  Logos,  as  the  expressed  and  perfectly  real- 
ised idea  of  man,  all  would  be  intelligible.  Jesus 
would  then  be  the  ideal  man,  the  one  among  mortals 
who  had  fully  realised  the  idea  of  man  as  it  existed 
in  God,  who  on  the  one  side  was  the  son  of  God,  on 
the  other  side  the  son  of  man,  the  brother  of  all  men, 
if  they  would  only  acknowledge  Christ  as  the  Son  of 
God,  and  emulate  His  example.  This  would  be  a 
correct  and  to  us  a  perfectly  intelligible  and  accept- 
able conception.  But  many  as  are  the  difficulties 
which  this  would  remove,  the  objection  remains 
that  we  can  produce  no  historical  proof  of  such  a 
conception  of  Jesus  as  Logos  of  humanity.  We  are 
too  poor  in  historical  monuments  of  the  first  three 
Christian  centuries  to  be  able  to  speak  with  assur- 
ance of  the  inner  processes  of  thought  of  even  the 
most  prominent  personalities  of  that  time.  In  every- 
thing, even  in  relation  to  many  of  the  leading  ques- 


THE   'TRUE  HISTORY'  OF  CELSUS  39 

tions  of  the  Christian  religion,  we  are  obliged  to  rely 
on  combination  and  construction.  Not  only  in  the 
Evangelists,  but  in  many  of  the  church  fathers,  feel- 
ing overcomes  reason,  and  their  expressions  admit 
but  too  often  of  the  most  varied  interpretations,  as 
the  later  history  of  the  church  has  only  too  clearly 
proved.  Nevertheless  we  must  endeavour  to  enter 
not  only  into  their  emotions,  but  also  into  their 
thoughts,  and  not  believe  that  they  used  words 
without  thoughts.  I  do  not  say  that  this  is  im- 
possible. Unthinkable  as  it  is,  that  words  arise  and 
exist  without  ideas,  yet  we  know  only  too  well  that 
words  become  mere  words,  that  they  grow  pale  and 
die,  and  that  they  may  finally  become  vox  et  prce- 
terea  nihil.  It  is,  however,  the  duty  of  the  historian 
and  especially  of  the  philologist  to  call  back  to  life 
such  words  as  have  given  up  the  ghost.  May  what  I 
have  here  written  about  the  meaning  of  the  Logos 
fulfil  this  aim,  and  at  the  same  time  make  it  clear 
that  my  desire  for  the  discovery  of  the  original  text 
of  the  SERMO  VERUS  was  not  an  idle  one.  I 
have  since  learned  that  the  same  wish  was  expressed 
at  an  earlier  date  by  no  less  a  person  than  Barthold 
Niebuhr. 


II 

THE   PFERDEBURLA   (HORSEHERD) 

A  CONTRIBUTOR  to  a  periodical,  which,  like  the 
Deutsche  Rundschau,  has  a  world-wide  circulation, 
receives  many  letters  from  every  corner  of  the  earth. 
Many  of  them  are  nothing  more  than  the  twitter  of 
birds  in  the  trees;  he  listens  and  goes  his  way. 
Others  contain  now  and  then  something  of  use,  for 
which  he  is  thankful,  usually  of  course  in  silence, 
for  a  day  and  night  together  contain  only  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  but  little  time  remains  for  corre- 
spondence. It  is  interesting  to  note  how  radically 
one  is  often  misunderstood.  While  one  person 
anonymously  accuses  the  writer  of  free  thinking  and 
heresy,  another,  and  he  generally  gives  his  name, 
complains  of  his  orthodox  narrow-mindedness,  hypo- 
crisy, and  blindness,  which  for  the  most  part  are 
attributed  to  poor  Oxford,  which,  in  foreign  countries 
at  least,  still  has  the  reputation  of  high  church 
orthodoxy. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  all  this,  such  letters  are  useful,  for 
they  give  us  a  knowledge  of  the  public  which  we 
desire  to  influence,  but  which  for  the  most  part  goes 
its  own  way,  as  it  may  find  most  convenient.  Often 

40 


THE  HORSEHERD  41 

such  opinions  come  to  us  from  the  highest  circles,  at 
times  also  from  the  lowest,  and  it  is  difficult  to  tell 
which  of  the  two  are  the  more  instructive.  The 
problems  of  humanity  in  all  their  simplicity  are  after 
all  the  same  for  us  all,  only  they  are  viewed  from 
different  standpoints,  and  are  treated  with  scientific 
or  practical  design.  Members  of  the  same  profession 
readily  understand  each  other;  they  employ  their 
own  technical  language ;  but  the  unprofessional  per- 
son often  goes  straighter  to  the  heart  of  a  question, 
and  refuses  to  be  satisfied  with  authorities  or  tradi- 
tional formulas.  These  gentlemen  it  is  often  difficult 
to  silence.  We  can  easily  contend  with  combatants 
who  wield  their  weapons  according  to  the  rules  laid 
down  by  the  schools ;  we  know  what  to  expect,  and 
how  to  parry  a  quart  or  a  tierce.  But  an  opponent 
who  strikes  regardless  of  all  rule  is  often  hard  to 
manage,  and  we  get  a  scar  where  it  is  least  expected 
or  deserved.  In  this  wise  I  was  served  by  an  un- 
known opponent,  who  wrote  to  me  from  a  place  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Pittsburgh,  not  far  from  Ohio. 
He  had  read  in  his  country  solitude  my  article  on 
Celsus  in  the  Deutsche  Rundschau.  I  know  noth- 
ing of  him,  except  what  he  himself  writes,  but  the 
man  interested  me.  After  all,  he  says  in  his  rude 
way  very  much  the  same  things  as  others  veil  in 
learned  phrases,  and  his  doubts  and  difficulties  are 
manifestly  products  of  his  heart  as  well  as  of  his 
brain.  The  problems  of  humanity  have  troubled 
him  with  genuine  pain,  and  after  honestly  thinking 


42  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

them  out  as  well  as  he  knew  how,  his  convictions 
stand  firm  as  a  rock,  and  all  who  disagree  with  him 
seem  to  him  not  only  fools,  but  unfortunately  hypo- 
crites as  well.  It  is  the  misfortune  of  these  lonely 
thinkers  that  they  cannot  comprehend  how  any  one 
can  hold  opinions  differing  from  their  own  without 
being  dishonest.  They  cannot  doubt  that  they  have 
been  honest  toward  themselves,  and  as  a  consequence 
they  cannot  conceive  how  others,  who  are  of  a  dif- 
ferent mind,  can  be  equally  honest,  and  have  come 
by  their  convictions  by  a  straightforward  path. 
Often  it  has  been  very  difficult  for  them  to  break 
with  their  old  faith,  cherished  from  childhood,  and 
they  can  only  look  upon  it  as  cowardice  and  weak- 
ness if  others,  as  they  think,  have  not  made  or  wished 
to  make  this  sacrifice.  But  we  shall  let  the  horse- 
herd  who  emigrated  to  America  speak  for  himself. 

I  here  print  his  letter  exactly  as  I  received  it, 
without  any  alterations.1  To  me  it  seems  that  the 
man  speaks  not  only  for  himself,  but  for  many  who 
think  as  he  does,  but  who  have  not  the  ability  nor 
the  opportunity  to  express  themselves  clearly.  I 
resolved,  accordingly,  to  reply  to  him,  and  once 
begun,  my  pen  ran  on,  and  my  letter  unexpectedly 
covered  more  ground  than  I  had  intended.  Whether 
he  received  the  letter  or  not,  I  do  not  know ;  at  least 
it  must  have  been  delivered  to  his  address,  for  it  was 
not  returned  to  me.  As  I  have  not,  however,  heard 
from  him  again  since  February,  and  as  he  speaks  in 
1  The  original  was,  however,  iii  German. 


THE   HORSEHERD  43 

his  letter  of  chest  catarrh,  which  he  hopes  will  in  no 
long  time  bring  him  to  a  joyful  end,  I  must  wait  no 
longer  for  an  answer,  and  publish  the  correspondence 
in  the  hope  that  there  are  other  "  Pferdebiirle  "  in 
the  world  to  whom  it  may  be  of  value. 

"  PITTSBURGH,  PA.,  U.S.,  February  26,  1896. 

"DEAR  COLLEAGUE  MAX  MULLER: — Your  article 
in  the  Deutsche  Rundschau  on  Celsus  pleased  me 
very  much.  What  does  it  matter  that  you  do  not 
know  me  ?  I  love  you,  and  that  gives  me  a  right  to 
address  you.  Why  those  vain  regrets  over  the  loss 
of  the  original  ?  I  would  not  stretch  out  my  little 
finger  for  that  Celsus  ;  gone  is  gone  like  the  lost 
parts  of  the  Annals  of  Tacitus.  More  than  likely 
both  of  these  losses  are  to  be  ascribed  to  Christian 
fanaticism.  Tacitus  hated  the  Jews  and  the  Chris- 
tian sect  derived  from  them.  But,  father  Max,  have 
we  not  much  greater  modern  Celsuses  and  Tacituses, 
for  instance  David  Hume  and  Schopenhauer?  One 
would  think  that  after  the  writings  of  these  heroes 
positive  Christianity  would  be  an  impossibility,  and 
yet  the  persistence  of  error  is  so  great  that  it  may  take 
several  centuries  more  before  the  end  of  the  Christian 
era  is  reached.  Has  there  ever  been  anything  in  the 
history  of  the  world  more  humiliating  to  the  human 
understanding  than  this  false  and  lying  tale  of  the 
Christian  religion  ?  And  is  there  anything  in  face  of 
our  knowledge,  and  of  the  realm  of  nature  and  of  man's 


44  THE   SILESIAN  HOESEHERD 

position  in  it,  so  unbearable,  yes  so  odious,  as  the  in- 
oculation of  such  error  in  the  tender  consciousness  of 
our  school  children  ?  I  shudder  when  I  think  that  in 
thousands  of  our  churches  and  schools  this  systematic 
ruin  of  the  greatest  of  all  gifts,  the  consciousness,  the 
human  brain,  is  daily,  even  hourly,  going  on.  Max, 
can  you,  too,  still  cling  to  the  God-fable  ?  The  Eng- 
lish atmosphere  may  serve  as  an  apology.  I  could 
not  strike  a  dog,  but  I  am  filled  with  bloodthirstiness 
toward  the  Jewish  idea  of  God,  the  soul-phantom,  and 
the  hallucination  of  immortality.  —  The  facts  are  so 
simple  and  clear ;  we  are  the  highest  existing  forms 
of  being  in  the  animal  world  of  this  planet,  and  share 
one  and  the  same  nature  with  them.  After  death  we 
are  just  as  entirely  reduced  to  nothing  as  before  our 
birth.  Nature  tells  us  so  plainly  that  the  eternal  con- 
ditions before  and  after  our  birth  are  identical. 

"  You  ask  me  what  this  juggling  means ; 
Take  this  short  answer  for  your  pains; 
A  game  of  chance  from  the  eternal  sea 
By  the  same  sea  again  will  swallowed  be. 

—  OMAR  KHAYYAM  (Bodenstedt). 

"  But  there  is  nothing  in  this  world  so  false  as  the 
statement  that  good  can  ever  come  out  of  lies. 
Nothing  in  the  world  is  so  wholesome  as  truth,  and 
truth  is  under  all  circumstances  lovable,  beautiful, 
and  holy.  Let  us  kneel  before  the  truth  of  nature ; 
nature  cannot  go  astray.  The  distinction  between 
good  and  evil,  the  evil  heritage  of  Judaism,  must 


THE   HORSEHERD  45 

fall  in  the  end.  Max,  on  quiet  fields,  in  a  mountain 
village  of  Silesia,  I  turned  somersaults  with  joy  at 
the  discovery  that  this  distinction  is  false,  and  that 
good  and  evil  are  identical.  Max,  you  will  not  be 
angry  with  me  ?  I  am  no  learned  fellow.  I  never 
attended  a  high  school,  and  now  I  rejoice  at  it, 
for  what  a  German  calls  education  can  only  serve 
to  miseducate  after  all.  Modern  life  is,  for  every 
open-minded  person,  the  real  high  school.  Max,  all 
German  savants,  or,  if  you  please,  the  majority  of 
them,  still  labour  under  the  delusion  that  the  mind  is 
a  'prius.'  By  no  means,  Max!  Mind  is  a  develop- 
ment, an  evolving  phenomenon.  One  would  sup- 
pose it  impossible  that  a  thinking  man,  who  has  ever 
observed  a  child,  could  be  of  any  other  opinion  ;  why 
seek  ghosts  behind  matter?  Mind  is  a  function  of 
living  organisms,  which  belongs  also  to  a  goose  and 
a  chicken.  Then,  Max,  why  not  be  content  with  the 
limits  of  our  knowledge,  conditioned  by  experience, 
and  give  up  this  infamous  romancing  and  tyrannical 
lying?  The  only  affection  which  after  fifty  years 
I  still  cherish  in  my  bosom  is  the  sweet,  unquench- 
able longing  for  that  truth  which  fate  has  denied  us. 
"  Max,  you  are  by  no  means  a  free  man,  as  I  observe 
that  the  religious  congress  in  Chicago  impressed  you 
very  much.1  I  was  present  when  the  gayly  dressed 
idolaters  from  Cardinal  Gibbons  down  to  the  stupid 
Shinto  priest  and  the  ill-favoured  Baptist  woman 

1  Deutsche  Eundschau,  1895,  LXXXII,  409  ff .,  "  The  Parliament 
of  Religions  in  Chicago,"  by  F.  Max  Miiller. 


46  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

preacher  sat  together  on  the  platform.  It  was  very 
pretty  and  refreshing  to  look  upon.  They  all  talked 
nonsense  and  thought  themselves  very  wise.  There 
was  but  one  exception  which  interested  me  :  a  yellow 
Buddhist  monk  inquired,  what  they  thought  of 
English  missionaries,  who  in  time  of  famine  distrib- 
uted bread  to  the  poor,  but  only  on  one  condition, 
that  they  adopted  the  Christian  superstition  (indif- 
ferent whether  honestly  or  not).  The  so-called 
"  Ethical  Culture  Societies "  were  not  admitted  by 
the  committee  to  their  congress  of  many  religions. 
Max,  it  was  pitiful  to  listen  to  the  tittle-tattle  that 
was  read.  None  had  learned  beforehand  what  he 
wanted  to  say.  Dicer e  de  scripto  is  a  shame  for 
learned  men.  Only  Cardinal  Gibbons  made  a  short, 
but  colourless  and  dull  extemporaneous  address,  which 
closed  with  the  hypocrisy,  what  a  great  thing  it  is 
to  keep  oneself  unspotted  by  this  world.  Accursed 
hypocrites,  you  yourselves  are  this  world,  —  pitifully 
incarnate,  it  is  true, —  but  you  yourselves  are  this 
*  spotted  world.'  Why  then  still  hold  to  the  stupid 
distinction  between  good  and  evil,  when  we  must 
admit  that  evil  is  essential  to  the  very  existence  of 
things,  and  it  would  be  impossible  for  the  world  to 
be,  except  as  it  is.  We  must  be  as  we  are,  or  we 
should  not  be  at  all.  O  beautiful  longing  for  the 
primeval  cause !  Our  ignorance  is  like  evil,  welcome. 
Let  us,  O  Max,  embrace  the  evil  and  ignorance,  for 
if  we  were  nothing  but  wretched  cripples  of  virtue, 
and  knew  everything,  we  could  not  bear  to  live.  As 


THE  HORSEHERD  47 

it  is,  we  enjoy  the  spirited  battle,  and  carry  a  sweet 
yearning  in  our  breasts. 

"  Max,  how  are  you  personally  ?  Have  you  a 
family  ?  How  is  your  health  ?  How  old  are  you  ? 
What  relation  do  you  bear  to  the  learned  set  in 
England?  Do  you  know  the  one  German  philoso- 
pher, with  the  courage  of  his  convictions,  Emil  Diih- 
ring,  in  Berlin.  I  consider  my  knowledge  of  the 
writings  of  Dr.  Diihring  as  the  greatest  gift  of  fate 
which  has  been  vouchsafed  to  me.  The  Jews  and 
state  professors  hide  his  fame  under  a  bushel.  Oh ! 
could  not  such  independent  men  as  you,  honoured 
Max  Miiller,  do  something  to  bring  this  hero  nearer 
to  our  young  students  ?  Diihring  is  the  only  writer 
of  the  present  day  who  is  to  be  enjoyed  almost  with- 
out drawback.  What  is  to  be  said  of  our  German  set 
which  is  cowardly  enough  to  repress  so  long  the 
greatest  mind  which  our  century  has  produced  ?  Were 
I  in  your  position,  how  would  I  shout  my  4  Quos 
Ego  '  across  to  Germany  !  Please,  my  countryman, 
favour  me  with  a  few  lines  in  answer  to  this  effusion, 
in  order  that  I  may  learn  who  and  what  you  are.  I 
am  a  Silesian  horseherd  (to  be  distinguished  from  the 
cowherds  [kiihbiirlas'],  who  till  their  field  with  pious 
moo-moos).  Instead  of  attending  a  high  school,  I 
herded  cows,  ploughed,  harvested,  and  helped  to  thrash 
in  the  winter.  While  herding  I  played  the  flute  in  the 
valleys  of  the  Sudetic  Mountains ;  and  because  the 
hands  of  the  old  village  schoolmaster  trembled  very 
much,  I  begged  of  him  to  let  me  try  to  play  the  organ 


48  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

for  him.  4  Ah,  you  rascal,  you  can  play  better  than 
I,'  and  he  boxed  my  ears.  Then  my  eldest  brother 
took  possession  of  the  farm  of  seventy-five  acres,  gave 
us  no  compensation,  and  the  rest  of  us  lads  had  to 
pack  off.  We  scraped  together  the  passage  money  to 
America,  and  about  thirty  years  ago  I  arrived  here, 
where  —  I  almost  said  God  be  praised  —  it  has 
always  gone  pretty  hard  with  me.  Whether  I  fare 
well  or  ill  is  the  same  to  me.  I  make  no  distinction, 
for  in  view  of  the  rapid  passing  of  life,  it  does  not 
pay  to  give  much  thought  to  unnecessary  distinc- 
tions. I  never  could  think  of  marrying,  chiefly  be- 
cause the  majority  of  the  women  in  this  country  are 
v  shrews,  cannot  cook,  and  spend  much  too  much 
money  on  the  housekeeping.  Besides,  I  have  but  a 
short  time  to  live,  for  I  possess  a  chest  catarrh  most 
loyally  devoted  to  me,  verging  upon  a  perfect 
asthma,  which  I  hope  erelong  will  bring  me  to  a 
joyful  end.  No  doubt  you  will  think  what  a  dis- 
consolate fellow  this  is  who  has  written  to  me.  O 
pshaw!  I  have  always  enjoyed  the  sunshine,  and  have 
sat  alone  hundreds  of  snug  hours  before  my  winter's 
companion,  a  small  iron  stove.  During  the  last  three 
nights  I  have  repeatedly  read  through  your  article 
on  Celsus,  published  in  the  Deutsche  Rundschau,  by 
a  tallow-candle.  In  relation  to  your  enthusiasm  over 
the  religious  clap-trap  in  Chicago,  I  should  like  to 
observe  that  you  would  have  been  entirely  in  the 
right  if  you  had  represented  the  Exhibition  as  the 
greatest  event  of  the  past  ten  years.  I  came  through 


THE  HORSEHERD  49 

Chicago  in  September,  1892,  visited  the  prospective 
site  of  the  Exposition,  and  found  there  a  mere  wilder- 
ness, scarcely  a  single  building  half  finished,  and  it  was 
a  wonder  of  wonders  what  American  enterprise  and 
genius  for  organisation  accomplished  within  the  single 
intervening  winter.  One  could  scarcely  recover  from 
one's  astonishment  at  what  ten  thousand  labourers, 
urged  on  by  the  Yankee  lash,  could  make  ready  in  six 
months.  '  There  was  money  in  the  business,'  and  for 
money  Jonathan  works  real  miracles.  Its  like  the 
world  has  never  produced.  The  American  is  cut  on 
a  large  pattern,  and  in  spite  of  his  political  delusions 
I  entertain  the  greatest  hopes  for  the  future  of  a 
country  which  is  in  such  hands. 

"  With  many  friendly  greetings, 

"  A  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD, 

"  Emigrated  to  America" 

I  answered  my  unknown  friend  and  correspondent 
as  follows:  — 

"Mr  GOOD  FRIEND:  You  are  an  honest  fellow, 
and  I  believe  that  I  am  one  too,  but  our  views  are 
widely  divergent.  I  am  an  old  professor,  am  now 
seventy-two  years  old,  or  as  has  been  often  said  to 
me,  seventy-two  years  young.  Like  yourself  I  com- 
menced life  with  nothing,  and  have  laboured  till  I 
have  become  not  rich,  but  independent.  Here  in 
wealthy  England  and  in  wealthy  Oxford  I  am  con- 


50  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

sidered  a  poor  man,  but  I  am  quite  content,  and  call 
that  riches.  I  have  been  married  thirty -seven  years, 
have  one  son,  secretary  to  the  Embassy  at  Constanti- 
nople, and  a  happily  married  daughter,  with  four 
grandchildren.  Now  you  know  all  that  you  wished 
to  know.  Of  my  sorrow,  the  loss  of  two  daughters, 
I  must  remain  silent. 

"  All  my  life  I  have  been  engaged  in  investigating 
the  past ;  I  am  a  philologist  and  have  therefore  been 
also  a  student  of  history,  have  especially  studied  the 
historical  development  of  the  various  religions  of 
mankind,  and  to  this  end  have  had  to  make  a  study 
of  ancient  languages,  particularly  Oriental  languages. 
When  one  consecrates  one's  life  to  such  a  cause,  one 
acquires  an  interest  in  and  a  love  for  the  ancients, 
and  a  wish  to  know  what  has  consoled  them  in  this 
vale  of  grief.  As  you  probably  acquired  a  love  for 
your  colts,  mares,  and  stallions,  I  acquired  an  interest 
in  ancient  and  modern  religions.  And  as  you  probably 
do  not  immediately  kill  or  reject  your  horses  because 
they  possess  a  blemish,  shy,  kick,  prance  about,  etc.,  so 
I  do  not  immediately  destroy  all  beliefs,  and  least  of  all 
my  own  mount,  because  they  are  not  faultless,  occasion- 
ally leave  me  in  the  lurch,  behave  foolishly,  even  dance 
on  their  hind  legs  with  head  in  air ;  but  I  endeavour  to 
understand  them.  When  we  understand  even  a  little, 
we  can  forgive  much.  That  many  religions,  including 
our  own,  contain  errors  and  weak  points,  just  as  your 
horses  do,  I  know  perhaps  even  better  than  you.  But 
have  you  ever  asked  yourself,  what  would  have  be- 


THE  HORSEHERD  51 

come  of  mankind  without  any  religion,  without  the 
conviction  that  beyond  our  horizon,  that  is  beyond  our 
limit,  there  still  must  be  something?  You  will  answer, 
4  How  do  we  know  that  ? '  Well,  can  there  b§  any  boun- 
dary without  something  beyond  it  ?  Is  not  that  as  true 
as  any  theorem  in  geometry  ?  If  it  were  not  so,  how 
could  we  explain  the  fact  that  mankind  has  never 
been  without  a  belief  in  a  world  beyond,  nor  without 
religion,  either  in  the  lowest  or  in  the  highest  levels. 
"  This  horizon,  this  boundary,  does  not  relate  only 
to  space,  as  all  will  agree,  even  when  carried  beyond 
the  Milky  Way;  it  relates  as  well  to  time.  You 
assert,  4  The  world  is  much  older  than  we  suppose ' ; 
you  are  right,  but  if  it  were  a  million  years,  still 
there  must  have  been  a  time  before  it  was  even  a 
day  old.  That  also  is  indisputable.  But  when  we 
reach  the  limit  of  our  senses  and  our  understanding, 
then  the  horse  shies,  then  we  imagine  that  nothing 
can  go  beyond  our  understanding.  Now  let  us  begin 
with  our  five  senses.  They  seem  to  be  our  wings, 
but  seen  in  the  light  they  are  our  fetters,  our  prison 
walls.  All  our  senses  have  their  horizon  and  their 
limits ;  and  the  limits  in  the  external  world  are  our 
making.  Our  sight  scarcely  reaches  a  mile,  then  it 
ceases ;  we  can  observe  the  movement  of  the  second 
hand,  but  that  of  the  minute  hand  escapes  us.  Why  ? 
We  might  know  that  a  cannon-ball  passes  through 
our  field  of  vision,  but  we  cannot  locate  it.  Why 
not?  Our  sense  of  touch  is  also  very  weak  and 
only  extends  over  a  very  limited  space.  And  as  it 


52  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

is  on  the  large  scale,  so  is  it  with  the  small.  We 
see  the  eye  of  a  needle,  but  infusoria  and  bacteria, 
which  we  know  to  be  there  and  which  affect  us  so 
much,  we  cannot  see.  With  telescopes  and  micro- 
scopes we  can  slightly  extend  the  field  of  our  per- 
ception, but  the  limitations  and  weakness  of  our 
sense-impressions  remain  none  the  less  an  undeniable 
fact.  We  live  in  a  prison,  in  a  cave  as  Plato  said, 
and  yet  we  accept  our  impressions  as  they  are,  and 
form  out  of  them  general  notions  and  words,  and 
with  these  words  we  erect  this  stately  building,  or 
this  tower  of  Babel,  which  we  then  call  human 
science. 

"  Yes,  say  certain  philosophers,  our  senses  may  be 
finite  and  untrustworthy,  but  our  understanding, 
and  still  further  our  reason,  they  are  unlimited,  and 
recognise  nothing  which  is  beyond  them.  Well,  what 
does  this  most  wise  understanding  do  for  us?  Has 
not  Hobbes  long  since  taught  us  that  it  adds  and 
subtracts,  and  voild  tout?  It  receives  the  impressions 
of  the  senses,  combines  them,  feels  them,  comprehends 
and  designates  or  names  them  after  any  characteristic, 
and  when  man  has  found  words,  then  the  adding  and 
subtracting  begin,  but  unfortunately  also  the  jum- 
bling and  chattering,  till  we  finally  establish  that 
philosophy  and  religion,  which  have  aroused  in  so 
great  degree  your  anger,  and  even  your  blood  thirsti- 
ness.  In  spite  of  all  it  remains  true  that  we  can 
no  more  get  beyond  the  horizon  of  our  senses  than 
we  can  jump  out  of  our  skins.  You  know  that  old 


THE   HORSEHERD  53 

saying  of  Locke's,  although  it  is  much  older  than 
Locke,  that  there  is  nothing  in  our  intellect  which 
was  not  first  in  our  senses.  And  therefore,  however 
much  we  may  extend  our  knowledge  by  adding  and 
subtracting,  everywhere  we  feel  in  the  end  our  horizon, 
our  limitations,  our  ignorance,  for  with  the  limitations 
of  our  senses  it  cannot  be  otherwise.  Invariably 
we  receive  the  old  answer,  4  You  are  like  the  mind 
which  you  conceive,  not  me.' 

"  But  you  say  that  we  have  no  right  whatever  to 
speak  of  a  mind.  That  is  possible,  but  everything 
depends  upon  what  we  understand  by  the  term 
4  mind.'  Is  not  mind,  that  is  to  say,  a  recipient, 
essential  to  our  seeing  and  hearing?  The  eye  can 
no  more  see  than  a  camera  obscura.  True  seeing, 
hearing,  and  feeling  are  not  perceptible  through  the 
organs  of  sense,  but  through  the  recipient,  for  without 
it  the  organs  of  sense  could  make  no  resistance,  could 
not  receive,  could  not  perceive.  This  unknown  ele- 
ment which  lies  beyond  the  senses,  this  recipient  must 
be  there.  It  is  true  he  cannot  be  named.  Perhaps 
it  would  have  been  better  to  have  called  him '  x '  or 
the  Unknown;  but  when  we  know  what  is  meant, 
why  not  call  it  mind  or  spirit,  that  is,  breath?  You 
call  it  a  soul-phantom.  Well,  good,  but  without  such 
a  soul-phantom  we  cannot  get  on;  you  would  have 
to  consider  yourself  a  mere  photographic  apparatus, 
and  I  do  not  believe  that  you  do. 

"Of  course  you  can  still  say  that  the  mind  is  a 
development,  a  self-evolving  phenomenon.  Rightly 


54  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

understood  that  is  quite  true,  but  how  misleading 
that  word  *  evolution '  has  been  in  these  latter  days. 
Darwin  certainly  brought  much  that  is  beautiful  and 
true  to  the  light  of  day.  He  demonstrated  that 
many  of  the  so-called  species  are  not  independent 
creations,  but  have  been  developed  from  other  spe- 
cies. That  means  that  he  has  corrected  the  earlier 
erroneous  nomenclature  of  Natural  History  and  has 
introduced  a  more  correct  classification.  He  has 
greatly  simplified  the  work  of  the  Creator  of  the 
world.  Of  that  merit  no  one  will  deprive  him,  and 
it  is  a  great  merit.  And  those  who  believed  that  every 
species  required  its  own  act  of  creation,  and  had  to 
be  finished  by  the  Creator  separately  (as  was  the  es- 
tablished opinion  in  England,  and  still  is  in  some 
places),  cannot  be  grateful  enough  to  Darwin  for 
having  given  them  a  simpler  and  worthier  idea  of 
the  origin  of  the  earth  and  of  its  animal  and  vegeta- 
ble kingdoms. 

"But  now  comes  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  and  tells 
us,  'We  have  to  deal  with  man  as  a  product  of 
evolution,  with  society  as  a  product  of  evolution, 
and  with  moral  phenomena  as  products  of  evolu- 
tion.' That  sounds  splendid,  but  every  one  who 
does  not  quite  ignore  the  past,  knows  that  evolu- 
tion or  development  is  neither  anything  very  new  or 
x  very  useful.  Formerly  we  used  simply  to  say  the 
iree  grows,  the  child  develops,  and  this  was  meta- 
phorically transferred  to  society,  the  state,  science, 
and  religion.  The  study  of  this  development  was 


THE  HORSEHERD  55 

called  history,  and  occasionally  genetic  or  pragmatic 
history ;  but  instead  of  talking  as  we  do  now  of  evolu- 
tion with  imperceptible  transitions,  it  was  these  trans- 
itions which  industrious  and  honest  investigators 
formerly  sought  to  observe.  They  aimed  at  learning 
to  know  the  men,  and  the  events,  which  marked  a  de- 
cided step  in  advance  in  the  history  of  society,  or  in 
the  history  of  morals.  This  required  painstaking 
effort,  but  the  result  obtained  was  quite  different  from 
the  modern  view,  in  which  everything  is  evolved,  and, 
what  is  the  worst,  by  imperceptible  degrees.  In 
Natural  History  this  is  otherwise;  in  it  the  term 
4 evolution,' or  'growth,'  may  be  correctly  applied, 
because  no  one  really  has  ever  seen  or  heard  the 
grass  grow,  and  no  one  has  ever  observed  the  once 
generally  accepted  transition  from  a  reptile  to  a  bird. 
In  this  we  must  doubtless  admit  imperceptible  trans- 
itions. Yet  even  in  this  we  must  not  go  beyond  the 
facts ;  and  if  a  man  like  Virchow  assures  us  that  the 
intermediate  stages  between  man  and  any  sort  of 
animal  have  never  been  found  to  this  day,  then 
in  spite  of  all  storms  we  shall  probably  have  to 
rest  there.  But  I  go  still  farther.  Even  suppos- 
ing, say  I,  that  there  is  an  imperceptible  transition 
from  the  Pithecanthropos  to  man,  affecting  his 
thigh,  his  skull,  his  brain,  his  entire  body,  have  we 
then  found  a  transition  from  the  animal  to  man? 
Certainly  not ;  for  man  is  man,  not  because  he  has  no 
tail,  but  because  he  speaks,  and  speech  implies  not 
only  communication,  —  an  animal  can  do  that  per- 


56  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

haps  better  than  a  man,  —  but  it  implies  thinking, 
and  thinking  not  only  as  an  animal  thinks,  but  think- 
ing conceptually.  And  this  small  thing,  the  con- 
cept, is  the  transition  which  no  animal  has  ever 
accomplished.  The  moment  an  ape  achieved  it,  he 
would  be  ipso  facto  a  man,  in  spite  of  his  miserable 
brain,  and  in  spite  of  his  long  tail. 

"  Concepts  do  not  present  themselves  spontaneously 
(or  we  should  find  them  also  among  animals),  but  they 
are  a  special  product,  in  part  the  work  of  our  ances- 
tors, and  inherited  by  us  with  our  language,  and  in 
part  even  now  the  work  of  more  gifted  men  from 
time  to  time.  This  making  necessarily  implies  the 
existence  of  a  maker,  and  if  we  now  provisionally 
call  this  maker,  this  transcendent,  invisible,  but  very 
powerful  4#,'  mind,  are  we  thereby  chargeable,  as 
you  say,  with  having  conjured  up  a  soul-phantom? 
Call  it  a  phantom  if  you  will,  but  even  as  a  phantom 
it  has  a  right  to  exist.  Call  it  mind,  breath,  breath- 
ing, willing,  or  (with  Schopenhauer)  will,  there  is 
always  a  He  or  It  to  be  reckoned  with.  Of  this  He 
or  It,  this  pronominal  soul-phantom,  you  will  never 
rid  yourself. 

"  And  if  we  now  perceive  with  our  senses  a 
world  as  it  is  given  us  whether  we  will  or  no,  and 
in  this  objective  world,  without  us,  which  so  many 
regard  as  within  us,  we  everywhere  recognise  the 
presence  of  purpose,  must  we  then  not  also  have  a 
name  for  that  which  manifests  itself  in  nature  as 
purposive  or  rational  ?  Shall  we  only  call  it  4  xj  or 


THE  HORSEHEBD  57 

may  we  transfer  the  word  designating  what  works 
purposively  in  us  to  this  Unknown,  and  speak  of  a 
universal  Mind  without  which  nature  could  not  be 
what  it  is  ?  Nature  is  not  crazy  nor  incoherent. 
When  the  child  is  born,  has  the  mother  milk,  and  to 
what  purpose  ?  Why,  certainly,  to  nourish  the  child. 
And  the  child  has  the  lips  and  muscles  to  suck. 
When  the  fruit  has  ripened  on  the  tree,  it  falls  to  the 
earth  full  of  seed.  The  husk  breaks,  the  seed  falls  in 
the  soil,  it  rains  and  the  rain  fertilises  the  seed,  the 
sun  shines  and  makes  it  grow,  and  when  the  tree  has 
grown  and  again  bears  blossoms  and  fruit,  this  fruit  is 
useful  to  man,  is  food  and  not  poison  to  him.  Is  all 
this  without  purpose,  without  reason?  Is  it  a  sym- 
phony without  a  composer  ?  Man,  too,  needs  rain  and 
sunshine,  and  warmth  and  darkness ;  and  all  this  is 
given  to  him  so  that  he  may  live  and  work  and  think. 
What  would  man  be  without  darkness,  without  the 
rest  afforded  by  night?  Probably  crazy.  What 
would  he  be  without  sunshine  ?  Perhaps  an  Esqui- 
mau or  a  mole.  But  how  remarkable  it  is  that  as 
the  tree  always  reproduces  itself,  so  also  does  man. 
The  son  differs  from  the  father,  and  yet  how  like  they 
are.  Where  is  the  form  which  retains  the  continu- 
ous resemblance  to  itself,  and  yet  leaves  to  each 
separate  person  freedom  and  individuality  ?  Whence 
comes  this  purpose  in  all  nature  ?  That  is  an  old  ques- 
tion which  has  received  many  answers,  both  wise 
and  foolish.  Unfortunately  men  so  frequently  forget 
what  has  already  been  attained,  and  then  begin  again 


58  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

at  the  beginning.  Darwin  was  an  industrious  and 
delicate  observer,  and  showed  admirable  power  of 
combination.  But  he  was  no  philosopher,  and  never 
sought  to  be  one.  He  was  of  opinion  that  everything 
in  nature  which  appeared  to  show  purpose  proceeded 
from  the  survival  of  the  fittest.  But  that  is  no 
answer.  We  ask,  Why  does  the  fittest  survive  ? 
And  what  is  the  answer  ?  Because  only  the  fittest 
survives.  And  when  we  come  to  Natural  Selection, 
who  is  the  selector  that  selects?  These  are  nothing 
but  phrases,  which  have  long  been  known  and  long 
since  been  abandoned,  and  still  are  always  warmed 
up  again.  If  we  recognise  in  nature  purpose  or 
reason,  then  we  have  a  right  to  conclude  that  the 
source  of  it  lies  in  the  eternal  reason,  in  the  eternally 
rational.  Behind  all  objects  lies  the  thought  or  the 
idea.  If  there  are  rational  ideas  in  nature,  then 
there  must  be  a  rational  thinker.  Behind  all  trees  — 
oaks,  birches,  pines  —  lies  the  thought,  the  idea,  the 
form,  the  word,  the  logos  of  tree.  Who  made  or  thought 
it  before  ever  the  first  tree  existed  ?  We  can  never 
see  a  tree ;  we  see  only  an  oak,  a  birch,  a  pine,  never 
a  tree.  But  the  thought  or  idea  of  tree  meets  us, 
realised  and  diversified  in  all  trees.  This  is  true  of 
all  things.  No  one  has  ever  seen  an  animal,  a  man, 
.  a  dog,  but  he  sees  a  St.  Bernard,  a  greyhound,  a 
dachshund,  and  strictly  not  even  that.  What,  then, 
is  it  that  is  permanent,  always  recurring  in  the  dog, 
by  means  of  which  they  resemble  each  other,  the 
invisible  form  in  which  they  are  all  cast  ?  That  is 


THE   HORSEHERD  59 

the  thought,  the  idea,  the  logos  of  dog.  Can  there 
be  a  thought  without  a  thinker  ?  Did  the  ideas  in 
nature,  the  millions  of  objects  which  make  up  our 
knowledge,  fall  from  the  clouds?  Did  they  make 
themselves  or  did  nature  make  them?  Who,  then, 
is  nature  ?  Is  it  a  masculine,  feminine,  or  neuter  ?  If 
nature  can  choose,  then  it  can  also  think  and  pro- 
duce. But  can  it?  No,  nature  is  a  word,  very 
useful  for  certain  purposes;  but  empty,  intangible, 
and  incomprehensible.  Nature  is  an  abstraction,  as 
much  as  dog  or  tree,  but  far  more  inclusive.  When 
we  recognise  thought,  reason,  purpose  in  nature,  still 
it  is  all  in  vain,  we  must  assume  a  thinker  in,  above, 
behind  nature,  and  we  must  as  a  matter  of  course 
have  a  name  for  him.  The  infinite  thinker  of  all 
things,  of  all  ideas,  of  all  words,  who  can  never  be 
seen  and  never  comprehended,  because  he  is  infinite, 
but  in  whose  thoughts  all  creatures,  the  entire  crea- 
tion, have  their  source,  and  who  when  rightly  under- 
stood approaches  us  palpably  or  symbolically  in  all 
things,  in  the  sole  path  of  sense  by  which  he  can 
approach  us  sentient  beings,  why  should  we  not  call 
him  Mind,  or  God,  or  as  the  Jews  called  him,  Jeho- 
vah, or  the  Mohammedans,  Allah,  or  the  Brahmins, 
Brahman  ?  Either  reason  operates  in  nature,  or  nature 
is  without  reason,  is  chaos  and  confusion.  Neither 
survival  of  the  fittest  nor  natural  selection  could 
bring  order  into  this  confusion ;  we  might  as  well 
believe  that  if  the  type  in  a  printing  office  be 
thoroughly  shaken  and  mixed,  it  could  produce 


60  THE  SILESIAN   HORSEHERD 

Goethe's  Faust  by  chance.  If  we  insist  upon  adher- 
ing to  the  theories  of  natural  selection,  or  survival  of 
the  fittest,  be  it  so ;  we  only  transfer  the  choice  to  a 
Something  which  can  choose,  and  leave  the  fitness 
or  adaptability  to  the  judgment  of  an  originator,  who 
can  really  judge  and  think. 

"  I  hope  that  I  have  made  this  plain  to  you ; 
but  what  would  be  plain  to  us  would  not  be  plain 
to  children,  and  still  less  to  mankind  in  its  infancy 
five  thousand  or  fifty  thousand  years  ago.  I  have 
especially  endeavoured  to  discover  what  led  these 
men  of  old,  in  many  respects  so  uncultivated,  to  be- 
lieve in  something  beyond,  invisible,  superhuman, 
supernatural.  We  can  see  from  their  language  and 
from  the  oldest  monuments  of  their  religion  that 
they  early  observed  that  something  happened  in  the 
world.  The  world  was  not  dark,  nor  still,  nor  dead. 
The  sun  rose,  and  man  awoke,  and  asked  himself  and 
the  sunshine.  4  Whence  ? '  he  said ;  '  stop,  what  is 
there  ?  who  is  there  ? '  Such  an  object  as  the  sun  can- 
not rise  of  its  own  volition.  There  is  something 
behind  it.  At  first  the  sun  itself  was  considered  a 
labourer ;  it  accomplished  the  greatest  work  on  earth, 
gave  light,  heat,  life,  growth,  fruits.  It  was  quite 
natural,  then,  to  pay  great  honour  to  the  sun ;  to  be 
grateful  to  it,  to  appeal  to  it  for  light,  heat,  and  in- 
crease. And  therefore  the  sun  became  a  God,  e.g. 
a  Deva  (deus),  which  originally  meant  nothing  more 
than  light.  But  even  then  an  old  Inca  in  Peru  ob- 
served that  the  sun  was  not  free ;  could  not,  therefore, 


THE  HORSEHERD  61 

be  a  being,  to  whom  man  could  be  grateful,  to  whom 
he  could  pray.  It  is,  said  he,  like  a  beast  of  burden, 
which  must  daily  tread  its  appointed  round.  And 
although  the  worship  of  the  sun  was  the  religion  of 
his  country,  and  he  himself  was  worshipped  as  a 
child  of  the  sun,  he  renounced  the  ancient  faith 
of  his  country,  and  became  what  is  now  frequently 
called  an  atheist ;  that  is,  he  longed  after  a  truer  God. 
What  say  you  to  this  Inca  ?  This  same  thing  occurred 
also  in  other  lands,  and  instead  of  continuing  to  wor- 
ship the  sun  and  moon,  the  dawn,  the  storm-wind,  or 
the  sky,  they  worshipped  that  which  must  be  behind 
it  all,  which  was  called  Heaven-Father,  Jupiter,  and 
every  conceivable  name.  These  names  were  no 
longer  to  indicate  the  visible  object,  but  Him  who 
had  thought  and  created  the  object,  the  thinker  and 
ruler  of  the  world.  This  is  the  fundamental  idea 
from  which  all  religions  have  arisen :  not  aminism, 
fetishism,  totemism,  or  whatever  the  little  tributaries 
may  be  called,  which  have  poured  for  thousands  of 
years  into  the  main  stream.  Every  people  has  pro- 
duced its  own  religion,  its  own  language,  in  the  course 
of  thousands  of  years ;  later,  religions  have  been  framed 
for  all  mankind,  and  we  are  still  engaged  in  that  task, 
even  in  what  you  call  that  clap-trap  of  Chicago.  Even 
though  we  have  all  been  born  and  educated  in  some 
religion,  we  nevertheless  have  the  right,  even  the 
duty,  like  the  old  Inca,  to  examine  every  article  of 
our  hereditary  religion,  to  retain  it  or  to  cast  it  aside, 
according  to  our  own  judgment  and  conception  of  the 


62  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

truth.  Only  the  fundamental  principle  must  remain ; 
there  is  a  thinker  and  a  ruler  of  the  universe.  Of 
Pontius  Pilate  and  Caiaphas,  of  Joseph  and  Mary, 
of  the  resurrection  and  ascension,  let  each  one  be- 
lieve what  he  will,  but  the  highest  commandment 
applies  to  all,  'Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbour  as  thyself. ' 

"You  see,  therefore,  that  I,  too,  am  a  God-romancer. 
And  what  objection  can  you  raise  against  it  ?  You 
are  of  opinion  that  to  love  God  and  your  neighbour 
is  equivalent  to  being  good,  and  are  evidently  very 
proud  of  your  discovery  that  there  is  no  distinction 
between  good  and  evil.  Well,  if  loving  God  and 
your  neighbour  is  equivalent  to  being  good,  then  it 
follows  that  not  loving  God  and  not  loving  your 
neighbour  is  equivalent  to  not  being  good,  or  to  being 
evil.  There  is,  then,  a  very  plain  distinction  between 
good  and  bad.  And  yet  you  say  that  you  turned  a 
somersault  when  you  discovered  that  there  was  no 
such  distinction.  It  is  true  that  the  nature  of  this 
distinction  is  often  dependent  on  the  degree  of  lati- 
tude and  longitude  where  men  are  congregated,  and 
still  more  on  the  intention  of  the  agent.  This  is  very 
ancient  knowledge.  The  old  Hindu  philosophers 
went  still  farther,  and  said  of  an  assassin  and  his 
victim,  '  The  one  does  not  commit  murder,  and  the 
other  is  not  murdered.'  That  goes  still  farther 
than  your  somersault.  At  all  events,  we  entirely 
agree  with  each  other,  that  everything  which  is  done 
out  of  love  to  God  and  our  neighbour  is  good,  and 


THE  HORSEHERD  63 

everything  which  is  done  through  selfishness  is  bad. 
The  old  philosopher  in  India  must  have  turned  more 
somersaults  than  you ;  but  what  he  had  in  his  mind 
in  doing  it  does  not  concern  us  here.  But  it  was  not 
so  bad  as  it  sounds,  and  I  believe  that  what  you  say, 
that  there  is  no  real  distinction  between  good  and 
evil,  is  not  so  bad  as  it  sounds. 

"We  have  now  reached  that  stage  that  we  must 
admit  that  there  is  a  mind  within  us,  in  our  inner 
world,  and  a  mind  without  us,  in  the  outer  world. 
What  we  call  this  mind,  the  Ego,  the  soul  within  us, 
and  the  Non-ego,  the  world-soul,  the  God  without 
us,  is  a  matter  of  indifference.  The  Brahrnans  ap- 
pear to  me  to  have  found  the  best  expression.  They 
call  the  fundamental  cause  of  the  soul,  of  the  Ego, 
the  Self,  and  the  fundamental  cause  of  the  Non-ego, 
of  the  World-soul,  of  God,  the  highest  Self.  They 
go  still  farther,  and  hold  these  two  selves  to  be  in 
their  deepest  nature  one  and  the  same — but  of  this 
another  time.  To-day  I  am  content,  if  you  will  ad- 
mit, that  our  mind  is  not  mere  steam,  nor  the  world 
merely  a  steam-engine,  but  that  in  order  that  the  ma- 
chine shall  run,  that  the  eye  shall  see,  the  ear  hear, 
the  mind  think,  add,  and  subtract,  we  need  a  seer, 
a  hearer,  a  thinker.  More  than  this  I  will  not  inflict 
on  you  to-day ;  but  you  see  that  without  deviating  a 
finger's  breadth  from  the  straight  path  of  reason,  that 
is  from  correct  and  honest  addition  and  subtraction, 
we  finally  come  to  the  soul -phantom  and  to  the  idea 
of  God,  which  you  look  upon  with  such  blood- 


64  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

thirstiness.  I  have  indicated  to  you,  with  only  a  few 
strokes,  the  historical  course  of  human  knowledge. 
There  still  remains  much  to  fill  in,  which  must  be 
gained  from  history  and  the  diligent  study  of  the 
sacred  books  of  mankind,  and  the  works  of  the  lead- 
ing philosophers  of  the  East  and  the  West.  We  shall 
then  learn  that  the  history  of  mankind  is  the  best 
philosophy,  and  that  not  only  in  Christianity  and 
Judaism,  but  that  in  all  religions  of  the  world,  God 
has  at  divers  times  spoken  through  the  prophets  in 
divers  manners,  and  still  speaks. 

"And  now  only  a  few  words  more  over  another 
somersault.  You  say  that  the  mind  is  not  a  prius, 
but  a  development  out  of  matter.  You  are  right 
again,  if  you  view  the  matter  only  from  an  embryo- 
logical  or  psychological  standpoint.  A  child  begins 
with  deep  sleep,  then  comes  dream-sleep,  and  finally 
awakening,  collecting,  naming,  adding,  subtracting. 
What  is  that  which  awakens  in  the  child  ?  Is  it  a 
bone,  or  is  it  the  soft  mass  which  we  call  brain  ?  Can 
the  gray  matter  within  our  skulls  give  names,  or  add? 
Why,  then,  has  no  craniologist  told  us  that  the  mon- 
key's brain  lacks  precisely  those  tracts  which  are  con- 
cerned with  speech  or  with  aphasia  ? l  I  ask  again, 
Can  the  eye  see,  the  ear  hear  ?  Try  it  on  the  body 
under  dissection,  or  try  it  yourself  in  your  sleep. 
Without  a  subject  there  is  no  object  in  the  world, 
without  understanding  there  is  nothing  to  under- 

1  See  Prof.  Dr.  Paul  Flechsig,  Neue  Untersuchungen  uber  die 
Markbildung  in  den  menschlichen  Gehirnlappen,  p.  67. 


THE   HORSEHERD  65 

stand,  without  mind  no  matter.  You  think  that 
matter  comes  first,  and  then  what  we  call  mind. 
Where  is  this  matter?  Where  have  you  ever  seen 
matter  ?  You  see  oak,  fir,  slate,  and  granite,  and  all 
sorts  of  other  materies,  as  the  old  architects  called 
them,  never  matter.  Matter  is  the  creation  of  the 
mind,  not  the  reverse.  Our  entire  world  is  thought, 
not  wood  and  stone.  We  learn  to  think  or  reflect 
upon  the  thoughts,  which  the  Thinker  of  the  world, 
invisible,  yet  everywhere  visible,  has  first  thought. 
What  we  see,  hear,  taste,  and  feel,  is  all  within  us, 
not  without.  Sugar  is  not  sweet,  we  are  sweet.  The 
sky  is  not  painted  blue,  we  are  blue.  Nothing  is 
large  or  small,  heavy  or  light,  except  as  to  ourselves. 
Man  is  the  measure  of  all  things,  as  an  ancient  Greek 
philosopher  asserted;  and  man  has  inferred,  discov- 
ered, and  named  matter.  And  how  did  he  do  it? 
He  called  everything,  out  of  which  he  made  any- 
thing, matter  ;  materia  first  meant  nothing  more  than 
wood  used  for  building,  out  of  which  man  built  his 
dwelling.  Here  you  have  the  whole  secret  of  matter. 
It  is  building-material,  oak,  pine,  birch,  whichever  you 
prefer.  Abstract  every  individual  characteristic,  gen- 
eralise as  you  will,  the  wood,  the  hyle,  always  remains. 
And  you  will  have  it  that  thought,  or  even  the  thinker, 
originated  from  this  wood.  Do  you  really  believe 
that  there  is  an  outer  world  such  as  we  see,  hear, 
or  feel?  Where  have  we  a  tree,  except  in  our 
imagination?  Have  you  ever  seen  a  whole  tree, 
from  all  four  quarters  at  once  ?  Even  here  we  have 


66  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

something  to  add  first.  And  of  what  are  our 
ideas  composed,  if  not  our  sense-perceptions  ?  And 
these  perceptions,  imperfect  as  they  are,  exist  only  in 
us,  for  us,  and  through  us.  The  thing  perceived  is 
and  always  remains,  as  far  as  we  are  concerned  in  the 
outer  world,  transcendent,  a  thing  in  itself ;  all  else  is 
our  doing ;  and  if  you  wish  to  call  it  matter  or  the 
material  world,  well  and  good,  but  at  least  it  is  not 
the  prius  of  mind,  but  the  posterius,  that  which  is 
demanded  by  the  mind,  but  is  always  unattainable. 
Even  the  professional  materialist  ascribes  inertia  to 
matter.  The  atoms,  if  he  assumes  atoms,  are  motion- 
less, unless  disturbed.  From  whence  comes  this  dis- 
turbance ?  It  must  proceed  from  something  outside 
the  atoms,  or  the  matter,  so  that  we  can  never  say 
that  there  is  nothing  in  the  universe  but  matter. 
And  now  if  we  ascribe  motion  to  the  atoms,  or  like 
other  philosophers,  perception,  then  that  is  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  to  ascribe  mind  to  them,  which, 
however,  if  you  are  right,  must  first  evolve  itself  out 
of  this  matter.  If  we  wind  something  into  these 
atoms,  then  we  can  also  wind  something  out  of  them ; 
in  doing  this,  however,  we  give  up  at  the  outset  the 
experiment  of  letting  mind  evolve  itself  out  of  matter. 
Give  an  atom  the  germ-power  of  an  acorn,  and  it  will 
develop  into  an  oak.  Give  an  atom  the  capacity  of 
sense-perception,  and  it  will  become  an  animal,  possi- 
bly a  man.  But  what  was  promised  us  was  the  devel- 
opment of  feeling  and  perception  out  of  the  dead 
atoms  of  hydrogen,  oxygen,  nitrogen,  carbon,  etc. 


THE   HOKSEHERD  67 

Even  if  we  could  explain  life  out  of  the  activities  of 
these  atoms,  which  may  be  possible,  —  although  denied 
by  Haeckel  and  Tyndall,  —  still  feeling,  perception, 
understanding,  all  the  functions  of  mind,  would  re- 
main unexplained.  J.  S.  Mill  is  certainly  no  idealist, 
and  no  doubt  is  one  of  your  heroes.  Well  Mr.  Mill 
declares  that  nothing  but  mind  could  produce  mind. 
Even  Tyndall,  in  his  address  as  President  of  the 
British  Association  in  Belfast,  declared  in  plain 
words  that  the  continuity  of  molecular  processes  and 
the  phenomena  of  consciousness  constitute  the  rock 
on  which  all  Materialism  must  inevitably  be  shattered. 
"  Think  over  all  of  this  by  your  iron  stove,  or  better 
still  at  some  beautiful  sunrise  in  spring,  and  you  will 
see  before  you  a  more  glorious  revelation  than  all  the 
revelations  of  the  Old  World. 

«  Yours  faithfully, 

"F.  MAX  MULLER. 

"  OXFORD,  November,  1896." 


Ill 

CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD 

THE  appearance  of  my  article  in  the  Deutsche 
RundscTiau  seems  to  have  caused  much  headshaking 
among  my  friends  in  Germany,  England,  and  Amer- 
ica. Many  letters  came  to  me  privately,  others  were 
sent  directly  to  the  publishers.  They  came  chiefly 
from  two  sides.  Some  were  of  the  opinion  that  I 
dealt  too  lightly  with  the  Horseherd ;  others  pro- 
tested against  what  I  said  about  the  current  theory 
of  evolution.  The  first  objection  I  have  sought  to 
make  up  for  in  what  follows.  The  other  required 
no  answer,  for  I  had  I  think,  in  my  previous  writ- 
ings, quite  clearly  and  fully  explained  my  attitude 
in  opposition  to  so-called  Darwinism.  Some  of  my 
correspondents  wished  peremptorily  to  deny  me  the 
right  of  passing  judgment  upon  Darwin's  doctrine, 
because  I  am  not  a  naturalist  by  profession.  Here 
we  see  an  example  of  the  confusion  of  ideas  that  re- 
sults from  confusion  of  language.  Darwinism  is  a 
high-sounding,  but  hollow  and  unreal  word,  like 
most  of  the  names  that  end  in  ism.  What  do  such 
words  as  Puseyism,  Jesuitism,  Buddhism,  and  now 
even  Pre-Darwinism  and  Pre-Lamarckism  signify? 
Everything  and  nothing,  and  no  one  is  more  on  his 

68 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        69 

guard  against  these  generalising  termini  technici 
than  the  heroes  eponymi  himself.  What  has  not 
been  called  Darwinism?  That  the  present  has  come 
out  of  the  past,  has  been  called  the  greatest  dis- 
covery of  the  nineteenth  century.  Darwin  himself 
is  not  responsible  for  such  things.  He  wished  to 
show  how  the  present  has  come  out  of  the  past,  and 
he  did  it  in  such  a  manner  that  even  the  laity  could 
follow  him  and  sincerely  admire  him.  Now,  of  course, 
it  cannot  be  denied  that  if  we  understand  Darwinism 
to  mean  Darwin's  close  observations  concerning  the 
origin  of  the  higher  organisms  out  of  lower  as  well  as 
the  variations  of  individuals  from  their  specific  types, 
caused  by  external  conditions,  it  would  as  ill  become 
me  to  pass  either  a  favourable  or  unfavourable  judg- 
ment as  it  would  Darwin  to  estimate  my  edition  of 
the  Rig- Veda,  or  a  follower  of  Darwin  to  criticise 
my  root  theory  in  philology,  without  knowing  the 
ABC  of  the  science  of  language.  If,  however,  we 
speak  of  Darwinism  in  the  domain  of  universal  philo- 
sophical problems,  such  as,  for  instance,  the  creation  or 
development  of  the  world,  then  we  poor  philosophers 
also  have  no  doubt  a  right  to  join  in  the  conversa- 
tion. And  if,  without  appearing  too  presuming,  we 
now  and  then  dare  to  differ  from  Kant,  or  from 
Plato  or  Aristotle,  is  it  mere  insolence,  or  perhaps 
treason,  to  differ  from  Darwin  on  certain  points? 

This  was  not  the  tone  assumed  by  Darwin,  giant 
as  he  was,  even  when  he  spoke  to  so  insignificant  a 
person  as  myself.  I  have  on  a  previous  occasion 


70  THE   SILESIAN   HORSEHERD 

published  a  short  letter  addressed  to  me  by  Darwin 
(Auld  Lang  Syne,  p.  178).  Here  follows  another, 
which  I  may  no  doubt  also  publish  without  being 
indiscreet. 

"  DOWN,  BECKENHAM,  KENT,  July  3, 1873. 

"DEAR  SIR:  I  am  much  obliged  for  your  kind 
note  and  present  of  your  lectures.  I  am  extremely 
glad  to  have  received  them  from  you,  and  I  had 
intended  ordering  them. 

"  I  feel  quite  sure  from  what  I  have  read  in  your 
work,  that  you  would  never  say  anything  to  an  hon- 
est adversary  to  which  he  would  have  any  just  right 
to  object;  and  as  for  myself,  you  have  often  spoken 
highly  of  me,  perhaps  more  highly  than  I  deserve. 

"  As  far  as  language  is  concerned,  I  am  not  worthy 
to  be  your  adversary,  as  I  know  extremely  little 
about  it,  and  that  little  learnt  from  very  few  books. 
I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  avoided  the  whole 
subject,  but  was  compelled  to  take  it  up  as  well  as  I 
could.  He  who  is  fully  convinced,  as  I  am,  that 
man  is  descended  from  some  lower  animal,  is  almost 
forced  to  believe,  a  priori,  that  articulate  language 
has  been  developed  from  inarticulate  cries,  and  he  is 
therefore  hardly  a  fair  judge  of  the  arguments  op- 
posed to  this  belief. 

"  With  cordial  respect  I  remain,  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  very  faithfully, 

"  CHARLES  DARWIN." 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        71 

This  will  at  all  events  show  that  a  man  who  could 
look  upon  a  chimpanzee  as  his  equal,  did  not  entirely 
ignore,  as  an  uninformed  layman,  a  poor  philologist. 
Darwin  did  not  in  the  least  disdain  the  uninformed 
layman.  He  thought  and  wrote  for  him,  and  there 
is  scarcely  one  of  Darwin's  books  that  cannot  be  read 
by  the  uninformed  layman  with  profit.  And  in  the 
interchange  of  acquired  facts  or  ideas,  mental  science 
has  at  least  as  much  right  as  natural  science.  We 
live,  it  is  true,  in  different  worlds.  What  some  look 
upon  as  the  real,  others  regard  as  phenomenal.  What 
these  in  their  turn  look  upon  as  the  real,  seems  to 
the  first  to  be  non-existent.  It  will  always  be  thus 
until  philology  has  defined  the  true  meaning  of  reality. 

It  is,  however,  a  worn-out  device  to  place  all  those 
who  differ  from  Darwin  in  the  pillory  of  science  as 
mystics,  metaphysicians,  and  (what  seems  worst  of  all) 
as  orthodox.  It  requires  more  than  courage,  too,  to 
class  all  who  do  not  agree  with  us  as  uninformed 
laymen,  "to  accuse  them  of  ignorance  and  supersti- 
tion, and  to  praise  our  friends  and  disciples  as  the 
only  experts  or  competent  judges,  as  impartial  and 
consistent  thinkers."  Through  such  a  defence  the 
greatest  truths  would  lose  their  worth  and  dignity. 
The  true  scholar  simply  leaves  such  attacks  alone. 
It  is  to  be  regretted  that  this  resounding  trumpet 
blast  of  a  few  naturalists  renders  any  peaceful  inter- 
change of  ideas  impossible  from  the  beginning.  I 
have  expressed  my  admiration  for  Darwin  more 
freely  and  earlier  than  many  of  his  present  eulo- 


72  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

gists.  But  I  maintain,  that  when  anthropogeny  is  dis- 
cussed, it  is  desirable  first  of  all  to  explain  what  is 
understood  by  anthropos.  Man  is  not  only  an  object, 
but  a  subject  also.  All  that  man  is  as  an  object,  or 
appears  to  be  for  a  time  on  earth,  is  his  organic  body 
with  its  organs  of  sense  and  will,  and  with  its  slowly 
developed  so-called  ego.  This  body  is,  however,  only 
phenomenal ;  it  comes  and  goes,  it  is  not  real  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word.  To  man  belongs,  together 
with  the  visible  objective  body,  the  invisible  subjec- 
tive Something  which  we  may  call  mind  or  soul  or 
#,  but  which,  at  all  events,  first  makes  the  body 
into  a  man.  To  observe  and  make  out  this  Some- 
thing is  in  my  view  the  true  anthropogeny ;  how  the 
body  originated  concerns  me  as  little  as  does  the 
question  whether  my  gloves  are  made  of  kid  or  peau 
de  su£de.  That  will,  of  course,  be  called  mysticism, 
second  sight,  orthodoxy,  hypocrisy,  but  fortunately  it 
is  not  contradicted  by  such  nicknames.  If  an  ani- 
mal could  ever  speak  and  think  in  concepts,  it  would 
be  my  brother  in  spite  of  tail  or  snout ;  if  any  human 
being  had  a  tail  or  a  forty-four  toothed  snout,  but 
could  use  the  language  of  concepts,  then  he  would 
be  and  remain  a  man,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  in 
spite  of  all  that.  We,  too,  have  a  right  to  express 
our  convictions.  They  are  as  dear  to  us  as  to  those 
who  believe  or  believed  in  the  Protogenes  Haeckelii. 
It  is  true  we  do  not  preach  to  the  whole  world  that 
our  age  is  the  great  age  of  the  study  of  language  and 
mind,  and  that  it  has  cast  more  light  on  the  origin 


CONCEKNING  THE  HORSEHERD        73 

of  the  mind  (logogeny)  and  on  the  classification  of 
the  human  race  (anthropology)  than  all  other  sci- 
ences together.  A  little  progress,  however,  we  have 
made.  Who  is  there  that  still  classifies  the  human 
race  by  their  skulls,  hair,  anatomy,  etc.,  and  not  by 
their  speech  ?  If,  like  zoology,  we  may  borrow  count- 
less millions  of  years,  where  is  there  any  pure  blood 
left,  amid  the  endless  wars  and  migrations,  the  poly- 
gamy and  slavery  of  the  ancient  world  ?  Language 
alone  is  and  remains  identical,  whoever  may  speak  it  ; 
but  the  blood,  *  this  very  peculiar  fluid,'  how  can  we 
get  at  that  scientifically?  It  is,  however,  and  re- 
mains a  fixed  idea  with  these  "  consistent  thinkers  " 
that  the  sciences  of  language  and  mind  lead  to  super- 
stition and  hypocrisy,  while  on  the  other  hand  the 
science  of  language  gratefully  acknowledges  the 
results  of  zoology,  and  only  protests  against  en- 
croachments. Both  sciences  might  advance  peace- 
fully side  by  side,  rendering  aid  and  seeking  it ;  and 
as  for  prejudices,  there  are  plenty  of  them  surviving 
among  zoologists  as  well  as  philologists,  which  must 
be  removed  viribus  unitis.  What  is  common  to  us  is 
the  love  of  truth  and  clearness,  and  the  honest  effort 
to  learn  to  understand  the  processes  of  growth  in 
mind  and  language,  as  well  as  in  nature,  in  the  indi- 
vidual (ontogenetically)  as  well  as  in  the  race  (phy- 
logenetically).  Whether  we  now  call  this  evolution 
or  growth,  philology  at  all  events  has  been  in  advance 
of  natural  science  in  setting  a  good  example,  and 
securing  recognition  of  the  genetic  method.  Such 


74  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

men  as  William  Humboldt,  Grimm,  and  Bopp  did 
not  exactly  belong  to  the  dark  ages,  and  I  do  not 
believe  that  they  ever  doubted  that  man  is  a  mammal 
and  stands  at  the  head  of  the  mammalia.  This  is  no 
discovery  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Linnseus  lived 
in  the  eighteenth  century  and  Aristotle  somewhat 
earlier.  I  see  that  the  Standard  Dictionary  already 
makes  a  distinction  between  Darwinism  and  Darwin- 
ianism,  between  the  views  of  Darwin  and  those  of 
the  Darwinians,  and  we  clearly  see  that  in  some  of 
the  most  essential  points  these  two  tendencies  are 
diametrically  opposed  to  each  other.  There  is  one 
thing  that  naturalists  could  certainly  learn  from  phi- 
lologists, viz.,  to  define  their  termini  technici,  and  not 
to  believe  that  wonders  can  be  performed  with  words, 
if  only  they  are  spoken  loud  enough. 

The  following  letter  comes  from  a  naturalist,  but 
is  written  in  a  sincere  and  courteous  tone,  and  de- 
serves to  be  made  public.  I  believe  that  the  writer 
and  I  could  easily  come  to  terms,  as  I  have  briefly 
indicated  in  my  parentheses. 

AN    OPEN    LETTER    TO    PROFESSOR    F.   MAX    MULLER. 

"RESPECTED  SIR:  Your  correspondence  in  this 
periodical  with  the  '  Horseherd '  has  no  doubt 
aroused  an  interest  on  many  sides.  There  are  many 
more  Horseherds  than  might  be  supposed;  that  is 
to  say,  men  in  all  possible  positions  and  callings,  who 
after  earnest  reflection  have  reached  a  conclusion 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        75 

that  does  not  essentially  differ  from  the  mode  of 
thought  of  your  backwoods  friend. 

"The  present  writer  considers  himself  one  of 
these ;  he  is,  indeed,  not  self-taught  like  the  Horse- 
herd,  but  a  scientific  man,  and  like  you,  a  professor  ; 
but  as  he  had  no  philosophical  training,  and  he  has 
only  reached  his  views  through  observation  and 
reflection;  in  contrast  to  you,  the  profound  philolo- 
gist, he  stands  not  much  higher  than  the  Silesian 
countryman.  And  to  complete  the  contrast,  he 
adds,  that  he  has  long  been  a  severe  sufferer.  So 
that  instead  of  guiding  the  plough  on  the  field  of 
science  with  a  strong  hand,  he  must  remain  idly  at 
home,  and  modestly  whittle  pine  shavings  for  the 
enlightenment  of  his  home  circle. 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  the  Horseherd  will  con- 
sider that  his  argument  has  been  refuted  when  he 
reads  your  letter  by  his  warm  stove.  In  this, 
according  to  my  view,  you  have  practically  failed. 
(My  counter  argument*  shall  follow  later.) 

"Yes,  I  find  in  your  reasoning  very  remarkable 
contradictions.  You  acknowledge  for  instance  the 
infinity  of  space  and  time,  and  in  spite  of  this  you 
say  that  there  was  a  time  before  the  world  was  a 
year  old.  I  do  not  understand  that.  We  must 
assume  for  matter,  for  that  is  no  doubt  what  you 
mean  by  the  term  '  world,'  the  same  eternity  as  for 
space  and  time,  whose  infinity  can  be  proved  but 
not  comprehended.  (Well,  when  we  say  that  the 
world  is  1898  years  old,  we  can  also  say  that  it  once 


T6  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

was  a  year,  or  half  a  year  old  ;  of  course  not  other- 
wise.) 

"  A  '  creation  '  in  the  sense  of  the  various  religions 
is  equally  incomprehensible  to  us.  (Certainly.) 

"  But  I  do  not  wish  to  enlarge  on  this  point  any 
farther.  Here  begins  the  limit  of  our  thinking 
faculties,  and  it  is  the  defect  of  all  religions  that 
they  require  us  to  occupy  ourselves  with  matters 
that  lie  beyond  this  limit,  that  never  can  be  revealed 
to  us,  since  we  are  denied  the  understanding  of 
them ;  a  revelation  is  at  all  events  a  chimera.  For 
either  that  which  is  to  be  revealed  lies  beyond  our 
senses  and  ideas,  —  and  then  it  cannot  be  revealed  to 
us,  —  or  it  lies  on  this  side,  and  then  it  need  not  be 
revealed  to  us.  (This  is  not  directed  against  me.) 

"  I  believe,  moreover,  dear  sir,  that  through  your 
comparative  studies  of  religion  you  must  reach  the 
same  conclusion  as  myself,  that  all  religious  ideas 
have  arisen  solely  in  the  brain  of  man  himself,  as 
efforts  at  explanation  in  the  broadest  sense ;  that 
dogmas  were  made  out  of  hypotheses,  and  that  no 
religion  as  a  matter  of  fact  reveals  anything  to  us. 
{Not  only  religious  ideas,  but  all  ideas  have  arisen  in 
the  brain) 

"  You  express  a  profound  truth  when  you  say  that 
atheism  is  properly  a  search  for  a  truer  God.  I  was 
reminded  by  it  of  a  passage  in  one  of  Daudet's 
novels,  in  which  the  blasphemy  of  one  who  despairs 
of  a  good  God,  is  yet  called  a  kind  of  prayer.  r  You 
will  therefore  bear  with  me  if  I  explain  to  you  how 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        77 

a  scientific  man  who  thinks  consistently  can  reach  a 
conclusion  not  far  removed  from  that  which  prompted 
the  Horseherd  to  turn  a  somersault. 

"  Good  and  evil  are  purely  human  notions ;  an 
almighty  God  stands  beyond  good  and  evil.  He  is  as 
incomprehensible  to  us  in  moral  relations  as  in  every 
other.  (From  the  highest  point  of  view,  yes  ;  but  in  the 
lives  of  men  there  is  such  a  distinction.) 

"  Only  look  at  the  world !  The  existence  of  the 
majority  of  living  creatures  is  possible  only  through 
the  destruction  of  others.  What  refined  cruelty  is 
expressed  by  the  various  weapons  with  which  animals 
are  provided.  Some  zoologist  ought  to  write  an  illus- 
trated work  entitled,  The  Torture  Chamber  of  Nature. 
I  merely  wish  to  touch  upon  this  field;  to  exhaust 
it  would  require  pages  and  volumes.  Your  adopted 
countryman,  Wallace,  seeks,  it  is  true,  to  set  aside 
these  facts  by  a  superficial  observation.  That  most 
of  the  animals  that  are  doomed  to  be  devoured,  enjoy 
their  lives  until  immediately  before  the  catastrophe, 
takes  none  of  its  horror  from  the  mode  of  death.  To 
be  dismembered  alive  is  certainly  not  an  agreeable 
experience,  and  I  suggest  that  you  should  observe 
how,  for  instance,  a  water-adder  swallows  a  frog  ;  how 
the  poor  creature,  seized  by  the  hind  legs,  gradually 
disappears  down  its  throat,  while  its  eyes  project  star- 
ing out  of  their  sockets;  how  it  does  not  cease 
struggling  desperately  even  as  it  reaches  the  stomach. 

"  Now  I,  who  am  but  a  poor  child  of  man,  full  of 
evil  inclinations  according  to  Biblical  lore,  liberated 


78  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

the  poor  frog  on  my  ground.  But  ;  merciful  nature ' 
daily  brings  millions  and  millions  of  innocent  crea- 
tures to  a  like  cruel  and  miserable  end. 

"  I  intentionally  leave  out  of  consideration  here 
the  unspeakable  sufferings  of  mankind.  Believers 
in  the  Bible  find  it  so  convenient  to  argue  about 
original  sin.  Where  is  the  original  sin  of  the  tor- 
mented animal  kingdom? 

"  Of  course  man  in  his  unutterable  pride  looks  with 
deep  disdain  on  all  living  creatures  that  are  not  hu- 
man. As  if  he  were  not  bone  of  their  bone,  as  if  suf- 
fering did  not  form  a  common  bond  with  all  living 
creatures !  (/  have  never  done  that,  but  I  think  that  it 
is  difficult  to  establish  a  thermometer  of  suffering. ) 

"  Do  you  not  bethink  you,  honoured  student  of  San- 
skrit, of  the  religion  of  the  Brahmins  ?  In  sparing  all 
animals,  the  Hindus  have  shown  only  the  broadest 
consistency. 

"  There  will  come  a  time  when  there  will  be  only 
one  religion,  without  dogma  :  the  religion  of  compas- 
sion. (Buddhism  is  founded  on  Kdrunya,  compassion.) 
Christianity,  lofty  as  is  its  ethical  content,  is  not  the 
goal,  but  only  a  stage  in  our  religious  development. 

"  It  is  a  misfortune  that  Nietzsche,  the  great  keen 
thinker,  should  have  been  misled  into  an  opposite  con- 
clusion by  the  mental  weakness,  the  paralytic  imbe- 
cility, which  gradually  enveloped  his  brain  like  a 
growth  of  mould.  And  the  foolish  youths,  who  es- 
teem the  expressions  of  this  incipient  insanity  as  the 
revelations  of  a  vigorous  genius,  swear  by  his  later 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        79 

hallucinations  about  the  Over-man  and  the  blond 
beast. 

"A  specialist  in  mental  disease  can  point  out  the 
traces  of  his  malady  years  before  it  openly  broke  out. 
And  as  if  he  had  not  written  enough  when  the  world 
still  considered  him  of  sound  mind,  must  men  still 
try  to  glean  from  the  time  when  his  brain  was  already 
visibly  clouded  ? 

"  How  few  there  are  who  can  pick  out  of  the  deso- 
late morass  of  growing  imbecility  the  scanty  grains 
of  higher  intelligence  !  There  will  always  be  people 
who  will  be  impressed,  not  by  the  sound  part  of  his 
thought,  but  by  his  paradoxical  nonsense.  (May  be.") 

"  But  —  I  am  straying  from  the  path.  Now  to  the 
subject.  I  perfectly  understand  that  the  majority  of 
religions  had  to  assume  a  good  and  evil  principle 
to  guard  themselves  against  the  blasphemy  of  attrib- 
uting all  the  suffering  of  the  world  to  an  all-merciful 
Creator.  (Some  religions  have  done  this,  on  the  theory 
that  an  almighty  Crod  stands  beyond  good  and  evil.) 
The  devil  is  a  necessary  antithesis  to  God  ;  to  deny 
him  is  the  first  step  made  by  the  consistent  man  of 
science  toward  that  atheism  which  originates  really 
from  the  search  for  a  better  God.  The  Horseherd 
is  wrong  when  he  denies  the  existence  of  things  be- 
yond our  power  of  conception.  There  are,  as  can 
be  proved,  tones  that  we  do  not  hear,  and  rays  that 
we  cannot  see.  There  are  many  things  that  we  shall 
learn  to  comprehend  in  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
years  that  are  in  store  for  mankind.  We  are  merely 


THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

in  the  beginning  of  our  development.  Something, 
however,  will  always  remain  over.  The  '  Ignorabimus  ' 
of  one  of  our  foremost  thinkers  and  investigators  will 
always  retain  its  value  for  us.  (Most  certainly.) 

The  other  world  is  of  but  little  concern  to  him  who 
has  constantly  endeavoured  to  lead  a  good  life,  even 
if  he  has  never  given  much  thought  to  correct  belief. 
If  personal  existence  is  continued,  our  earthly  being 
must  be  divested  of  so  many  of  its  outer  husks  that 
we  should  scarcely  recognise  each  other,  for  only  a 
part  of  the  soul  is  the  soul.  ( What  we  call  soul  is 
a  modification  of  the  Self.)  If,  however,  an  eternal 
sleep  is  decreed  for  us,  then  this  can  be  no  great  mis- 
fortune. Let  the  wise  saying  in  Stobcei  Florilegium, 
Vol.  VI,  No.  19,  in  'praise  of  death '  serve  to  comfort 
us :  'A.va%aydpa<?  Svo  e\eye  StSacr/eaXta?  elvai  davdrov, 
rov  T€  Trpo  TOV  yev€(T0ai,  ^povov  /cal  rbv  VTTVOV,  —  'An- 
axagoras  said  that  two  things  admonished  us  about 
death  :  the  time  before  birth  and  sleep.' 

"  The  raindrop,  because  it  is  a  drop,  may  fear  for 
its  individuality  when  it  falls  back  into  the  sea 
whence  it  came.  We  men  are  perhaps  only  passing 
drops  formed  out  of  the  everlasting  changes  of  the 
world-sea.  (Of  what  does  the  world-sea  consist  but 
drops  f ) 

"  Those  who  think  as  I  do  constitute  a  silent  but 
large  congregation :  silent,  because  the  time  is  not  yet 
ripe  for  a  view  that  will  rob  thousands  of  their  illu- 
sions. We  do  not  preach  a  new  salvation,  but  a  silent, 
for  many,  a  painful,  renunciation.  But  the  profound 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        81 

peace  that  lies  in  this  view  is  as  precious  to  those  who 
have  acquired  it  as  is  the  hope  of  heaven  to  the  be- 
liever. In  honest  doubt,  too,  lies  a  saving  power  as 
well  as  in  faith ;  and  your  Horseherd  is  on  the  path 
of  this  salvation.  (I believe  that  too.) 

"  With  great  respect, 

"Yours  very  faithfully, 

"IGNOTUS  AGNOSTICUS." 

Whilst  I  received  this  and  many  other  letters  from 
many  lands,  no  sign  of  life  reached  me  from  my  Horse- 
herd.  He  must  have  received  my  letter,  or  it  would 
have  been  returned  to  me  through  the  post.  I  re- 
gretted this,  for  I  had  formed  a  liking  for  the  man  as 
he  appeared  in  his  letter,  and  he  no  doubt  would  have 
had  much  to  say  in  reply  to  my  letter,  which  would 
have  placed  his  views  in  a  clearer  light.  He  was  an 
honest  fellow,  and  I  respect  every  conviction  that  is 
honest  and  sincere,  even  if  it  is  diametrically  opposite 
to  my  own.  Now,  my  unknown  friend  could  have 
had  no  thought  of  self  in  the  matter.  He  knew  that 
his  name  would  not  be  mentioned  by  me,  and  it  would 
probably  have  been  of  little  concern  to  him  if  his 
name  had  become  known.  The  worst  feature  of  all 
discussions  is  the  intrusion  of  the  personal  element. 
If  for  instance  in  a  criticism  of  a  new  book  we  empha- 
sise that  which  we  think  erroneous,  for  which  eveiy 
author  should  be  grateful,  we  feel  at  the  same  time, 
that  while  desiring  to  render  a  service  to  the  cause  of 
o 


THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

truth,  we  may  not  only  have  hurt  the  book  or  the 
writer,  but  may  have  done  a  positive  injury.  The 
writer  then  feels  himself  impelled  to  defend  his  view 
not  only  with  all  the  legitimate  arts  of  advocacy,  but 
also  with  the  illegitimate.  This  poor  truth  is  the 
greatest  sufferer.  As  long  as  two  paths  are  open, 
there  is  room  for  quiet  discussion  with  one's  travelling 
companion  as  to  which  may  be  the  right  and  best  path 
by  which  to  reach  the  desired  point.  Both  parties 
have  the  same  object  in  view,  the  truth.  As  soon 
however  as  one  goes,  or  has  gone  his  own  way,  the 
controversy  becomes  personal  and  violent.  There  is 
no  thought  of  turning  back.  It  is  no  longer  said: 
"  This  is  the  wrong  path,"  but  "  You  are  on  the 
wrong  path,"  and  even  if  it  were  possible  to  turn  back, 
the  controversy  generally  ends  with,  "  I  told  you  so." 
Poor  Truth  stands  by  sorrowfully  and  rubs  its  eyes. 
Now  what  was  the  Horseherd  to  me,  and  what 
is  he  now,  even  if  he  has  been  brought  to  what  he 
called  a  joyful  end  by  his  catarrh  "  verging  upon  a 
perfect  asthma."  There  was  nothing  personal  between 
us.  He  knew  me  only  by  that  which  I  have  thought 
and  said ;  I  knew  of  him  only  what  he  had  gathered 
in  his  hours  of  leisure,  and  had  laid  aside  for  life.  I 
have  never  seen  him  face  to  face,  do  not  know  the 
colour  of  his  eyes,  hardly  even  whether  he  was  old  or 
young.  He  was  a  man,  but  he  may  be  even  that  no 
longer.  Everything  that  in  our  common  view  con- 
stitutes a  man,  his  body,  his  speech,  his  experience,  is 
gone.  We  did  not  bring  these  things  with  us  into 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        83 

the  world  and  probably  shall  not  take  them  away 
with  us.  What  the  body  is,  we  see  with  our  eyes, 
especially  if  we  attend  a  cremation,  or  if  in  ancient 
graves  we  look  into  the  urns  which  contain  the  gray- 
ish black  ashes,  whilst  near  by  there  sleeps  in  cold 
marble,  as  in  the  Museo  Nazionale  in  Rome,  the 
lovely  head  of  the  young  Roman  maiden,  to  whom 
two  thousand  years  ago  belonged  these  ashes,  as  well 
as  the  beautiful  mansion  that  has  been  excavated 
from  the  earth  and  rebuilt  round  about  her.  And 
the  language,  the  language  in  which  all  our  experi- 
ence here  on  earth  lies  stored,  will  this  be  everlast- 
ing? Shall  we  in  another  life  speak  English  or 
Sanscrit?  The  philologist  knows  too  well  of  what 
materiaLspefich  is  made,  how  much  of  the  temporal 
andT  accidental  it  has  adopted  in  its  eternal  forms,  to 
cherish  such  a  hope,  and  to  think  that  the  Logos  can 
be  eternally  bound  to  the  regular  or  irregular  declen- 
sions or  conjugations  of  the  Greek,  the  German,  or 
even  the  Hottentot  languages.  What  then  remains  ? 
Not  the  person,  or  the  so-called  ego  —  that  had  a  be- 
ginning, a  continuation,  and  an  end.  Everything 
that  had  a  beginning,  once  was  not,  and  what  once 
was  not,  has  in  itself,  from  its  very  beginning,  the 
germ  of  its  end.  What  remains  is  only  the  eternal 
One,  the  eternal  Self,  that  lives  in  us  all  without  be- 
ginning and  without  end,  in  which  each  one  has  his 
true  existence,  in  which  we  live,  move,  and  have  our 
being.  Each  temporal  ego  is  only  one  of  the  million 
phenomena  of  this  eternal  Self,  and  such  a  phenome- 

* 


THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

non  was  the  Horseherd  to  me.  It  is  only  what  we 
recognise  in  all  men  as  the  eternal,  or  as  the  divine, 
that  we  can  love  and  retain.  Everything  else  comes 
and  goes,  as  the  day  comes  in  the  morning  and  goes 
at  night,  but  the  light  of  the  sun  remains  forever. 
Now  it  may  be  said:  This  Self,  that  is  and  abides, 
is  after  all  next  to  nothing.  It  is,  however,  and  that 
'«V  is  more  than  everything  else.  Light  is  not  much 
either,  probably  only  vibration,  but  what  would  the 
world  be  without  it?  Did  we  not  begin  this  life 
simply  with  this  Self,  continue  it  with  this  Self,  and 
bring  it  to  an  end  with  this  Self  ?  There  is  nothing 
that  justifies  us  in  saying  that  this  Self  had  a  begin- 
ning, and  will  therefore  have  an  end.  The  ego  had 
a  beginning,  the  persona,  the  temporal  mask  that 
unfolds  itself  in  this  life,  but  not  the  Self  that 
wears  the  mask.  When  therefore  my  Horseherd  says, 
"  After  death  we  are  just  as  much  a  nullity  as  before 
our  birth,"  I  say,  quoderat  demonstrandum  is  still  to 
be  proved.  What  does  he  mean  by  we  ?  If  we  were 
nothing  before  birth,  that  is,  if  we  never  had  been  at 
all,  what  would  that  be  that  is  born?  Being  born 
does  not  mean  becoming  something  out  of  nothing. 
What  is  born  or  produced  was  there,  before  it  was 
born  or  produced,  before  it  came  into  the  light  of 
the  world.  All  creation  out  of  nothing  is  a  pure 
chimera  for  us.  Have  we  ever  the  feeling  or  ex- 
perience that  we  had  a  beginning  here  on  earth, 
or  have  we  entirely  forgotten  the  most  remarkable 
thing  in  our  life,  viz.,  its  beginning?  Have  we  ever 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        85 

seen  a  beginning?  Can  we  even  think  of  an  abso- 
lute beginning?  In  order  to  have  had  our  begin- 
ning on  earth,  there  must  have  been  something 
that  begins,  be  it  a  cell  or  be  it  the  Self.  All  that 
we  call  ego,  personality,  character,  etc.,  has  unfolded 
itself  on  earth,  is  earthly,  but  not  the  Self.  If  we 
now  on  earth  were  content  with  the  pure  Self,  if  in 
all  those  that  we  love,  we  loved  the  eternal  Self 
and  not  only  the  appearance,  what  then  is  more 
natural  than  that  it  should  be  so  in  the  next  world, 
that  the  continuity  of  existence  cannot  be  severed, 
that  the  Self  should  find  itself  again,  even  though 
in  new  and  unexpected  forms?  When  therefore 
my  friend  makes  the  bold  assertion  :  "  After  our 
death  we  are  again  as  much  a  nullity  as  before  our 
birth,"  I  say,  "  Yes,  if  we  take  nullity  in  the  Hegelian 
sense."  Otherwise  I  say  the  direct  contrary  to  this : 
"After  our  death  we  are  again  as  little  a  nullity 
as  before  our  birth.  What  we  shall  be  we  cannot 
know ;  but  that  we  shall  be,  follows  from  this,  that 
the  Self  or  the  divine  within  us  can  neither  have  a 
beginning  nor  an  end."  That  is  what  the  ancients 
meant  in  saying  that  death  was  to  be  best  under- 
stood from  the  time  before  birth.  But  we  must 
not  think  that  each  single  ego  lays  claim  only  to 
a  part  of  the  Self,  for  then  the  Self  would  be  di- 
vided, limited,  and  finite.  No,  the  entire  Self  bears 
us,  just  as  the  entire  light  illumines  all,  every  grain 
of  sand  and  every  star,  but  for  that  reason  does  not 
belong  exclusively  to  any  one  grain  of  sand  or  star. 


86  THE  SILESIAN  HOESEHERD   • 

It  is  that  which  is  eternal,  or  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word  that  which  is  divine  in  us,  that  endures  in  all 
changes,  that  makes  all  change  possible,  for  without 
something  that  endures  in  change,  there  could  be 
no  change ;  without  something  continuous,  that  per- 
sists through  transformation,  nothing  could  be  trans- 
formed. The  Self  is  the  bond  that  unites  all  souls, 
the  red  thread  which  runs  through  all  being,  and  the 
knowledge  of  which  alone  gives  us  knowledge  of  our 
true  nature.  "  Know  thyself  "  no  longer  means  for  us 
"  Know  thy  ego,"  but  "  Know  what  lies  beyond  thy 
ego,  know  the  Self,"  the  Self  that  runs  through  the 
whole  world,  through  all  hearts,  the  same  for  all  men, 
the  same  for  the  highest  and  the  lowest,  the  same  for 
creator  and  creature,  the  Atman  of  the  Veda,  the  old- 
est and  truest  word  for  God. 

For  this  reason  the  Horseherd  was  to  me  what 
all  men  have  always  been  to  me  —  an  appearance  of 
the  Self,  the  same  as  I  myself,  not  only  a  fellow- 
creature,  but  a  fellow-man,  a  fellow-self.  Had  I  met 
him  in  life,  who  knows  whether  his  ego  or  his  ap- 
pearance would  have  attracted  me  as  much  as  his 
letter.  We  all  have  our  prejudices,  and  much  as  I 
honour  a  Silesian  peasant  who  has  spent  his  life  faith- 
fully and  honestly  in  a  strange  land,  I  do  not  know 
whether  I  should  have  sat  down  by  his  iron  stove  and 
chatted  with  him  about  ra  pe'y  terra. 

I  also  felt  as  I  read  his  letter,  that  it  was  not  a  soli- 
tary voice  in  the  desert,  but  that  he  spoke  in  the 
name  of  many  who  felt  as  he  felt,  without  being 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        87 

willing  or  able  to  express  it.     This  also  has  proved 
to  be  entirely  true. 

Judging  by  the  numerous  letters  and  manuscripts 
that  reach  me,  the  Horseherd  was  not  alone  in  his 
opinions.  There  are  countless  others  in  the  world 
of  the  same  mind,  and  even  if  his  voice  is  silenced, 
his  ideas  survive  in  all  places  and  directions,  and  he 
will  not  lack  followers  and  defenders.  The  strik- 
ing thing  in  the  letters  that  reached  me  was  that  the 
greater  number  and  the  most  characteristic  among 
his  sympathisers  did  not  wish  their  names  to  be 
known.  What  does  this  signify?  Do  we  still  live 
on  a  planet  on  which  we  dare  not  express  what  we 
hold  to  be  the  truth  —  planet  Terra  so  huge  and  yet 
so  contemptibly  small  ?  Has  mankind  still  only  free- 
dom of  thought,  but  not  freedom  of  utterance  ?  The 
powers  may  blockade  Greece;  can  they  blockade 
thoughts  on  wings  of  words  ?  It  has  been  attempted, 
but  force  is  no  proof,  and  when  we  have  visited  the 
prisons  in  which  Galilei  or  even  Giordano  Bruno 
was  immured,  we  learn  how  nothing  lends  greater 
strength  to  the  wings  of  truth  than  the  heavy 
chains  with  which  men  try  to  fetter  it.  It  is  still  the 
general  opinion  that  even  in  free  England  thought 
and  speech  are  not  free,  that  in  the  realm  of  thought 
there  is  even  less  freedom  on  this  side  of  the  Chan- 
nel than  on  the  other.1  Oxford  especially,  my  own 
university,  is  still  considered  the  stronghold  of 

1  These  pronouns,  referring  of  course  to  England  and  the  Con- 
tinent, were  reversed  in  the  original. 


88  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

obscurantists,  and  my  Horseherd  even  considers  the 
fact  that  I  have  lived  so  long  in  Oxford  a  circon- 
stance  attSnuante  of  my  so-called  orthodoxy.  Plainly 
what  is  thought,  said,  and  published  in  England,  and 
especially  in  Oxford,  is  not  read.  In  England  we 
can  say  anything  we  please,  we  must  only  bear  in 
mind  that  the  same  consideration  is  due  to  others 
that  we  claim  from  others.  It  is  true  that  from  time 
to  time  in  England,  and  even  in  Oxford,  feeble  efforts 
have  been  made,  if  not  to  curtail  freedom  of  thought, 
at  least  to  punish  those  who  laid  claim  to  it.  Where 
possible  the  salaries  of  professors  were  curtailed ;  in 
certain  elections  very  weak  candidates  were  preferred 
because  they  were  outwardly  orthodox.  I  do  not 
wish  to  mention  any  names,  but  I  myself  have  re- 
ceived in  England,  even  if  not  in  Oxford,  a  gentle 
aftertaste  of  this  antiquated  physic.  When  at  the 
request  of  my  friend  Stanley,  the  Dean  of  Westmin- 
ster Abbey,  I  delivered  a  discourse  in  his  venerable 
church,  which  was  crowded  to  the  doors,  petitions 
were  sent  to  Parliament  to  condemn  me  to  six 
months'  imprisonment.  I  was  accosted  in  the  streets, 
and  an  ordinary  tradesman  said  to  me,  "  Sir,  if  you 
are  sent  to  prison,  you  shall  have  at  least  two  warm 
dinners  each  week  from  me."  I  am,  to  be  sure,  the 
first  layman  that  ever  spoke  publicly  in  an  English 
church,  but  I  had  the  advice  of  the  highest  authori- 
ties that  the  Dean  was  perfectly  within  his  rights,  and 
that  we  were  guilty  of  no  violation  of  law.  I  there- 
fore waited  in  silence ;  I  knew  that  public  opinion 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        89 

was  on  my  side,  and  that  in  the  end  the  petition  to 
Parliament  would  simply  be  laid  aside.  Later  on  it 
was  attempted  again.  At  the  time  that  I  delivered 
my  lectures  on  the  Science  of  Religion  at  the  uni- 
versity of  Glasgow,  by  invitation  of  the  Senate,  1  was 
accused  first  before  the  presbytery  at  Glasgow,  and 
when  this  attempt  failed,  the  charge  was  carried 
before  the  great  Synod  at  Edinburgh.  In  this  case, 
too,  I  went  on  my  way,  in  silence,  and  in  the  end, 
even  in  Scotland,  the  old  saying,  "  Much  cry  and 
little  wool,"  was  verified.  This  proverb  is  frequently 
heard  in  England.  I  have  often  inquired  into  its 
origin.  Finally  I  found  that  there  is  a  second  line, 
"  As  the  deil  said  when  he  shore  the  sow."  Of  course 
such  an  operation  was  accompanied  with  much  noise 
on  the  part  of  the  sow,  but  little  wool,  nothing  but 
bristles.  I  have  never,  however,  had  to  turn  my  bris- 
tles against  the  gentlemen  who  wished  to  shear  me. 

I  am  of  opinion,  therefore,  that  those  who  wished 
to  espouse  the  cause  of  my  Horseherd  should  have 
done  so  publicly  and  with  open  visor.  As  soon  as 
any  one  feels  that  he  has  found  the  truth,  he  knows 
also  that  what  is  real  and  true  can  never  be  killed  or 
silenced ;  and  secondly,  that  truth  in  the  world  has  its 
purpose,  and  this  purpose  must  in  the  end  be  a  good 
one.  We  do  not  complain  about  thunder  and  light- 
ning, but  accustom  ourselves  to  them,  and  seek  to 
understand  them,  so  as  to  live  on  good  terms  with 
them  ;  and  we  finally  invent  lightning  conductors,  to 
protect  ourselves,  as  far  as  we  can,  against  the  inevi- 


THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

table.  So  it  is  with  every  new  truth,  if  it  is  only 
maintained  with  courage.  At  first  we  cry  and 
clamour  that  it  is  false,  that  it  is  dangerous.  In 
the  end  we  shake  our  wise  heads  and  say  these 
are  old  matters  known  long  since,  of  which  only  old 
women  were  afraid.  In  the  end,  after  the  thunder 
and  lightning,  the  air  is  made  clearer,  fresher, 
and  more  wholesome.  When  I  first  read  the  long 
letter  of  my  Horseherd,  I  said  to  myself,  "  He  is  a 
man  who  has  done  the  best  he  could  in  his  position." 
He  has  let  himself  be  taught,  but  also  irresistibly 
influenced,  by  certain  popular  books,  and  has  come 
to  think  that  the  abandonment  of  views  that  have 
been  instilled  into  him  from  his  youth  is  so  brave 
and  meritorious,  that  all  who  disagree  with  him  must 
be  cowards.  This  inculcation  of  truth  into  childish 
minds  is  always  a  dangerous  matter,  and  even  if  I 
do  not  use  the  strong  expressions  that  are  used  by 
my  friend,  —  for  I  always  think,  the  stronger  the 
expression  the  weaker  the  argument,  —  I  must  admit 
that  he  is  right  up  to  a  certain  point.  It  does  not 
seem  fair  that  in  the  decision  of  the  most  important 
questions -of  life  the  young  mind  should  have  no 
voice.  A  Jewish  child  becomes  a  Jew,  a  Christian 
child  a  Christian,  and  a  Buddhist  child  a  Buddhist. 
What  does  this  prove  ?  Unquestionably,  that  in  the 
highest  concern  in  life  the  child  is  not  allowed  a 
voice.  My  friend  asks  indignantly :  "  Is  there  any- 
thing in  face  of  our  knowledge,  and  of  the  realm 
of  nature  and  of  man's  position  in  it,  so  unbearable, 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        91 

yes  so  odious,  as  the  inoculation  of  such  error  in 
the  tender  consciousness  of  our  school  children  ?  I 
shudder  when  I  think  that  in  thousands  of  our 
churches  and  schools  this  systematic  ruin  of  the 
greatest  of  all  gifts,  the  consciousness,  the  human 
brain,  is  daily,  even  hourly,  going  on.  Max,  can 
you,  too,  still  cling  to  the  God-fable  ?  "  etc. 

Now  I  have  explained  clearly  and  concisely  in 
what  sense  I  cling  to  the  God-fable,  and  I  should 
like  to  know  if  I  have  convinced  my  Horseherd.  I 
belong,  above  all,  to  those  who  do  not  consider  the 
world  an  irrational  chaos,  and  also  to  those  who  can- 
not concede  that  there  can  be  reason  without  a 
reasoner.  Reason  is  an  activity,  or,  as  others  have 
it,  an  attribute,  and  there  can  neither  be  an  activity 
without  an  agent,  nor  an  attribute  without  a  subject ; 
at  least,  not  in  the  world  in  which  we  live.  When 
ordinary  persons  and  even  professional  philosophers 
speak  of  reason  as  if  it  were  a  jewel  that  can  be 
placed  in  a  drawer  or  in  a  human  skull,  they  are 
simply  myth-makers.  It  is  precisely  in  this  ever 
recurring  elevation  of  an  adjective  or  a  verb  to  a 
noun,  of  a  predicate  to  a  subject,  that  this  disease  of 
language,  as  I  have  called  mythology,  has  its  deepest 
roots.  Here  lies  the  genesis  of  the  majority  of  gods, 
not  by  any  means,  as  it  is  generally  believed  I  have 
taught,  merely  in  later  quibbles  and  misunderstand- 
ings, which  are  interesting  and  popular,  but  have 
little  reference  to  the  deepest  nature  of  the  myth. 
We  must  not  take  these  matters  too  lightly. 


THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

I  recognise  therefore  a  reasoner,  and  consequent 
reason  in  the  world,  or  in  other  words,  I  believe  in 
a  thinker  and  ruler  of  the  world,  but  gladly  concede 
that  this  Being  so  infinitely  transcends  our  faculties 
of  comprehension,  that  even  to  wish  only  to  give  him 
a  name  borders  on  madness.  If,  in  spite  of  all  of  this, 
we  use  such  names  as  Jehovah,  Allah,  Deva,  God, 
Father,  Creator,  this  is  only  a  result  of  human  weak- 
ness. I  cling  therefore  to  the  God-fable  in  the  sense 
which  is  more  fully  set  forth  in  my  letter,  and  it 
pleased  me  very  much  to  see  that  at  least  a  few  of 
those,  who  as  they  said  were  formerly  on  the  side  of 
the  Horseherd,  now  fully  agree  with  me,  that  the 
world  is  not  irrational.  Here  is  the  dividing  line  be- 
tween two  systems  of  philosophy.  Whoever  thinks 
that  an  irrational  world  becomes  rational  by  the  sur- 
vival of  the  fittest,  etc.,  stands  on  one  side  ;  I  stand  on 
the  other,  and  hold  with  the  Greek  thinkers,  who 
accept  the  world  as  the  expression  of  the  Logos,  or  of 
a  reasonable  thought  or  thinker. 

But  here  the  matter  became  serious.  To  my 
Horseherd  I  thought  that  I  could  make  myself  intel- 
ligible in  a  humorous  strain,  for  his  letter  was  per- 
meated with  a  quiet  humour.  But  my  known  and 
unknown  opponents  take  the  matter  much  more  seri- 
ously and  thoroughly,  and  I  am  consequently  obliged 
at  least  to  try  to  answer  them  seriously  and  thoroughly. 
What  my  readers  will  say  to  this  I  do  not  know.  I 
believe  that  even  in  short  words  we  can  be  serious 
and  profound.  When  Schiller  says  that  he  belongs 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        93 

to  no  religion,  and  why?  because  of  religion,  the 
statement  is  short  and  concise,  and  yet  easily  under- 
stood. I  shall,  however,  at  least  attempt  to  follow  my 
opponents  step  by  step,  even  at  the  risk  of  becoming 
tedious. 

And  first  of  all  a  confession.  It  has  been  pointed 
out  to  me  that  in  one  place  I  did  my  Horseherd  an 
injustice.  I  wrote  :  "  You  are  of  opinion  that  to  love 
God  and  your  neighbour  is  equivalent  to  being  good, 
and  are  evidently  very  proud  of  your  discovery  that 
there  is  no  distinction  between  good  and  evil. 
Well,"  I  then  continue,  "if  loving  God  and  your 
neighbour  is  equivalent  to  being  good,  then  it  follows 
that  not  loving  God  and  not  loving  your  neighbour  is 
equivalent  to  not  being  good,  or  to  being  evil.  There 
is,  then,  a  very  plain  distinction  between  good  and 
evil.  And  yet  you  say  that  you  turned  a  somersault 
when  you  discovered  that  there  was  no  such  distinc- 
tion." 

Well,  that  looked  as  though  I  had  driven  my  friend 
into  a  corner  from  which  he  would  find  it  difficult  to 
extricate  himself.  But  I  did  him  an  injustice  and 
shall  therefore  do  everything  in  my  power  to  right 
it.  My  memory,  as  it  so  frequently  does,  played  me 
a  prank.  At  the  same  time  that  I  answered  him,  I 
was  in  active  correspondence  with  one  of  the  dele- 
gates to  the  Chicago  Parliament  of  Religions,  at  which 
the  love  of  God  and  one's  neighbour  had  been  adopted, 
as  a  sort  of  article  of  agreement  which  the  followers 
of  any  or  every  faith  could  accept.  Thus  it  befell 


94  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

that  I  supposed  the  Horseherd  in  America  to  stand 
at  the  same  point  of  view,  and  consequently  to  be 
guilty  of  a  contradiction.  Such  is,  however,  not 
the  case ;  he  made  no  such  concession  of  love  of  God 
and  one's  neighbour  in  his  letter.  If  he  therefore 
insists  that  there  is  no  distinction  between  good  and 
evil,  I  cannot  at  least  refute  him  out  of  his  own 
mouth.  The  only  place  where  he  is  inconsistent  is 
where  he  concedes  that  he  could  not  strike  a  dog,  but 
is  filled  with  bloodthirstiness  toward  the  Jewish  idea 
of  God.  Here  he  clearly  holds  it  good  that  he  cannot 
be  cruel  to  an  animal,  and  that  he  looks  upon  blood- 
thirstiness  as  a  contrast.  He  also  concedes  that  a  lie 
can  never  accomplish  any  good,  and  believes  that  the 
truth  is  beautiful  and  holy.  If  a  lie  can  accomplish 
no  good,  only  evil,  then  there  must  be  a  distinction 
between  good  and  evil.  And  what  is  the  meaning 
of  beautiful  and  holy,  if  there  is  no  contrast  between 
good  and  evil.  But  I  shall  argue  this  point  no 
farther,  but  simply  say  peccavi,  and  I  believe  that  he, 
and  those  like-minded  with  him,  will  be  satisfied  with 
that.  How  different  it  would  have  been,  however, 
had  I  been  guilty  of  such  a  mistake  in  a  personal  dis- 
pute !  The  injured  party  would  never  have  believed 
that  my  oversight  was  accidental,  and  not  malicious,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  it  would  have  been  the  most 
stupid  malevolence  to  say  that  which  every  one  who 
can  read  would  instantly  recognise  as  untrue.  But 
enough  of  this,  and  enough  to  show  that  my  Horse- 
herd  at  least  remained  consistent.  Even  when  he 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        95 

so  far  forgets  himself  as  to  say,  "  God  be  praised,"  he 
excuses  himself.  Only  he  has  unfortunately  not  told 
us  what  he  really  means  when  he  says  that  good  and 
evil  are  identical.  Good  and  evil  are  relative  ideas, 
just  like  right  and  left,  black  and  white,  and  although 
he  has  told  us  that  he  turned  somersaults  with  joy 
over  the  discovery  that  this  distinction  is  false,  he  has 
left  us  in  total  darkness  as  to  how  we  shall  conceive 
this  identity. 

But  let  us  turn  back  to  more  important  things. 
My  opponents  further  call  me  sharply  to  account, 
and  ask  how  I  can  imagine  that  the  material  world 
can  be  rational,  or  permeated  with  reason.  I  believed 
that  it  must  be  clear  to  every  person  with  a  philo- 
sophical training,  that  there  are  things  that  are  be- 
yond our  understanding,  that  man  can  neither  sensibly 
apprehend  nor  logically  conceive  an  actual  beginning^ 
and  that  to  inquire  for  the  beginning  of  the  subjective 
self,  or  of  the  objective  world,  is  like  inquiring  for  the 
beginning  of  the  beginning.  All  that  we  can  do  is  to 
investigate  our  perceptions,  to  see  what  they  presup- 
pose. A  perception  plainly  presupposes  a  self  that 
perceives,  or  that  resists,  and  on  the  other  side,  some- 
thing that  forces  itself  upon  us,  or,  as  Kant  says,  some- 
thing that  is  given.  This  "  given  "  element  might  be 
mere  confusion,  but  it  is  not ;  it  displays  order,  cause 
and  effect,  and  reveals  itself  as  rational.  This  reve- 
lation of  a  rational  world  may,  however,  be  explained 
in  two  wa}7s.  That  there  is  reason  in  nature,  even 
the  majority  of  Darwinians  admit,  but  they  think  that 


96  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

it  arises  of  itself,  since  in  the  struggle  for  life  that 
which  is  most  adapted  to  its  conditions,  fittest,  best, 
necessarily  survives.  In  this  view  of  the  world, 
however,  if  I  see  it  aright,  much  is  admitted  surrep- 
titiously. Whence  comes  all  at  once  this  idea  of 
the  best,  of  the  good,  the  fit,  the  adapted,  in  the 
world?  Do  roasted  pigeons  fall  from  the  sky?  Is 
the  pigeon  itself  an  accidental  combination,  an  evo- 
lution, that  might  as  well  have  been  as  it  is,  or 
otherwise?  It  is  all  very  fine  to  recognise  in  the 
ascending  series  of  protozoa,  ccelenterata,  echino- 
derms,  worms,  mollusks,  fishes,  amphibia,  reptiles,  the 
stages  of  progress  toward  birds  and  finally  to  mam- 
mals and  man.  But  whence  comes  the  idea  of  bird 
or  pigeon  ?  Is  it  no  more  than  an  abstraction  from 
our  perceptions  of  thousands  of  birds  or  pigeons,  or 
must  the  idea  of  bird,  of  pigeon,  even  of  the  wood 
pigeon,  be  there  already,  that  we  may  detect  it 
behind  the  multiplicity  of  our  perceptions? 

Is  the  pigeon,  in  whose  wing  each  feather  is  counted, 
a  mere  accident,  a  mere  survival  which  might  have 
been  what  it  is  or  something  different,  or  is  it  some- 
thing willed  and  thought,  an  organic  whole?  It  is 
the  old  question  whether  the  idea  preceded  or  fol- 
lowed the  reality,  on  which  the  whole  Middle  Ages 
broke  their  teeth,  the  question  which  separated  and 
still  separates  philosophers  into  two  camps,  —  the  Real- 
ists and  the  Nominalists.  I  think  that  the  latest  in- 
vestigations show  us  that  the  Greek  philosophers,  and 
especially  Plato,  saw  more  correctly  when  they  recog- 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD  97 

nised  behind  the  multiplicity  of  individuals  the  unity 
of  the  idea,  or  the  species,  and  then  sought  the  true 
sequence  of  evolution  not  in  this  world,  in  a  struggle 
for  existence,  but  beyond  the  perception  of  the  senses, 
in  a  development  of  the  Logos  or  the  idea.  The 
circumstances,  it  appears  to  me,  in  this  view  remain 
just  the  same ;  the  sequence,  and  the  purposiveness 
in  this  sequence,  remain  untouched,  only  that  the 
Greeks  saw  in  the  rational  and  purposive  in  nature 
the  realisation  of  rational  progressive  thoughts,  not 
the  bloody  survivals  of  a  monstrous  gladiatorial  com- 
bat in  nature.  The  Darwinians  appear  to  me  to  re- 
semble the  Roman  emperors,  who  waited  till  the 
combat  was  ended,  and  then  applauded  the  survival 
of  the  fittest.  The  idealist  philosophy,  be  it  Plato's  or 
Hegel's,  recognises  in  what  actually  is,  the  rational, 
the  realisation  of  eternal,  rational  ideas.  This  reali- 
sation, or  the  process  of  what  we  call  creation,  can 
never  be  conceived  by  us  otherwise  than  figuratively. 
But  we  can  make  this  figurative  presentation  clearer 
and  clearer.  That  the  world  was  made  by  a  wood 
cutter,  as  was  originally  implied  in  the  Hebrew 
word  bara,  and  in  the  German  schoepfer,  schaffer,  in 
the  English  shaper,  or  in  the  Vedic  tvashtd,  and  the 
Greek  re/crew,  was  quite  comprehensible  at  a  time 
in  which  man's  highest  product  was  that  of  the  car- 
penter and  the  stone  mason ;  and  in  which  the  name 
of  timber  (materies)  could  become  the  universal 
name  for  matter  (uX?;,  wood).  After  this  idea  of  the 
founder  of  the  universe  as  a  carpenter  or  builder  was 


98  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

abandoned  as  inadequate,  the  world  was  divided  into 
two  parties.  The  one  adopted  the  theory  of  material 
primitive  elements,  whether  they  be  called  atoms,  or 
monads,  or  cells,  which  by  collision  or  struggle  with 
each  other,  and  by  mutual  affinity,  became  that  which 
we  now  see  around  us.  The  other  saw  the  impossi- 
bility of  the  rise  of  something  rational  out  of  the  irra- 
tional, and  conceived  a  rational  being,  in  which  was 
developed  the  original  type  of  everything  produced, 
the  so-called  Logos  of  the  universe.  How  this  Logos 
became  objectively  and  materially  real,  is  as  far  be- 
yond human  comprehension  as  is  the  origin  of  the 
cosmos  out  of  countless  atoms,  or  even  out  of  living 
cells.  So  far,  then,  one  hypothesis  would  be  as  com- 
plete and  as  incomplete  as  the  other.  But  the  Logos 
hypothesis  has  the  far-reaching  advantage,  that  in- 
stead of  a  long  succession  of  wonders,  —  call  them 
if  you  like  the  wonder  of  the  monads,  or  the  worm,  or 
the  mollusk,  or  the  fish,  or  the  amphibian,  or  the  rep- 
tile, or  the  bird,  or,  lastly,  man,  —  it  has  but  one  won- 
der before  it,  the  Logos,  the  idea  of  thought,  or  of  the 
eternal  thinker,  who  thought  everything  that  exists 
in  natural  sequence,  and  in  this  sense  made  all.  In 
this  view  we  need  not  even  abandon  the  survival  of 
the  fittest,  only  it  proceeds  in  the  Logos,  in  the  mind, 
not  in  the  outward  phenomenal  world.  It  would 
then  also  become  conceivable  that  the  embryological 
development  of  animated  nature  runs  parallel  with 
the  biological  or  historical,  or  as  it  were  recapitulates 
it,  only  the  continuity  of  the  idea  is  far  closer  and  more 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD        99 

intimate  than  that  of  the  reality.  Thus,  for  instance, 
in  the  development  of  the  human  embryo,  the  transi- 
tion from  the  invertebrate  to  the  vertebrate  may  be 
represented  in  the  reality  by  the  isolated  amphioxus, 
which  remains  stationary  where  vertebrate  man  be- 
gins, and  can  make  no  step  forward,  while  the  human 
embryo  advances  farther  and  farther  till  it  reaches  its 
highest  limit. 

In  order  now  to  infer  from  these  and  similar  facts 
that  man  at  one  time  really  existed  in  this  scarcely 
vertebrate  condition  of  the  amphioxus,  —  a  conclu- 
sion which,  strictly  understood,  yields  no  meaning,  — 
we  can  make  the  case  much  more  easily  conceivable 
if  we  represent  the  thinking,  or  invention  of  the 
world,  as  an  ascending  scale,  in  which  even  the  least 
chromatic  tone  must  have  a  place  without  a  break, 
while  the  principal  tones  do  not  become  clear  and 
full  until  the  requisite  number  of  vibrations  is  at- 
tained. These  gradations  of  tone  are  the  really 
interesting  thing  in  nature.  As  the  full,  clear  tones 
imply  certain  numerical  relations  among  the  vibra- 
tions, so  the  successive  stages  or  the  true  species  in 
nature  imply  a  will  or  thought  in  which  the  true 
Origin  of  Species  has  its  foundation.  That  natural 
selection,  as  it  is  called,  could  suffice  to  explain  the 
origin  of  species,  was  doubted  even  by  Huxley,1  who 
yet  described  himself  as  Darwin's  bull-dog. 

If  we  have  followed  the  supporters  of  my  Horse- 
herd  so  far,  I  should  like  here  to  enter  a  caveat,  that 
1  Academy,  January  2,  1897,  p.  12. 


100  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

is  indeed  of  no  great  significance,  but  may  turn  one 
or  another  from  a  by-way,  which  the  Horseherd 
himself  has  not  avoided.  He  speaks  of  the  place  of 
man  in  nature ;  he  thinks  (like  so  many  others)  that 
man  is  not  only  an  animal  belonging  to  the  mam- 
malia, which  no  one  has  ever  denied,  but  that  he  is 
of  the  same  nature  as  the  animal  world.  He  need 
not  therefore  have  accepted  the  whole  simian  theory, 
at  least  he  does  not  say  so ;  but  that  each  man,  and 
the  entire  human  race,  has  descended  from  an  un- 
known pair  of  animals,  he  appears  to  receive  as  indu- 
bitable. This  would  not,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  make 
the  slightest  difference  in  the  so-called  dignity  of 
mankind.  If  man  had  a  prehensile  tail,  it  would  not 
detract  from  his  worth.  I  myself  have  little  doubt 
that  there  were  men  with  tails  in  prehistoric  or  even 
in  historic  times.  I  go  still  farther  and  declare  that  if 
ever  there  should  be  an  ape  who  can  form  ideas 
and  words,  he  would  ipso  facto  be  a  man.  I  have 
therefore  no  prejudices  such  as  the  advocates  of  the 
simian  theory  like  to  attribute  to  us.  What  I  and 
those  who  agree  with  me  demand  of  our  opponents, 
is  merely  somewhat  keener  thought,  and  a  certain 
consideration  for  the  results  of  our  knowledge,  such 
as  we  on  our  side  have  bestowed  on  their  researches. 
They  have  taught  us  that  the  body  in  which  we  live 
was  at  first  a  simple  cell.  The  significance  of  this 
"  at  first "  is  left  somewhat  vague.  This  cell  was 
really  what  the  word  means,  the  cella  (room)  of  a 
dumb  inhabitant,  the  Self.  The  essential  thing  is 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD       101 

and  remains  what  was  in  the  cell.  Through  gem- 
mation, differentiation,  segmentation,  evolution,  or 
whatever  other  technical  expressions  we  may  use  for 
division,  multiplication,  budding,  increase,  etc.,  each 
cell  became  a  hundred,  a  thousand,  a  million.  Within 
this  cell  is  a  bright  spot  into  which  not  even  the 
microscope  can  penetrate,  although  whole  worlds 
may  be  contained  therein.  If  it  is  now  remembered 
that  no  one  has  ever  succeeded  in  distinguishing  the 
human  cell  from  the  cell  of  a  horse,  an  elephant,  or 
an  ape,  we  shall  see  how  much  unnecessary  indigna- 
tion has  been  expended  in  recent  years  over  the 
simian  origin  of  the  human  race,  and  how  much  intel- 
ligent thought  has  been  wasted  about  the  animal 
origin  of  man,  that  is  of  the  individual.  My  body, 
your  body,  his  body,  is  derived  (ontogenetically) 
from  the  cell,  is  in  fact  the  cell  which  has  re- 
mained persistently  the  same  from  beginning  to 
end,  without  ever,  in  spite  of  all  changes,  losing 
its  identity.  This  cell  in  its  transformations  has 
shown  remarkable  analogies  with  the  transformations 
of  other  animal  cells.  While,  however,  the  other  ani- 
mal cells  in  their  transformations  remain  stationary 
here  and  there,  either  at  the  boundary  line  of  worms, 
fishes,  amphibia,  reptiles,  or  mammals,  the  one  cell 
which  was  destined  to  become  man  moves  on  to  the 
stage  of  the  tailed  catarrhine  apes,  then  of  the  tail- 
less apes,  and  without  staying  here  it  irresistibly 
strides  towards  its  original  goal,  and  only  stops 
where  it  is  destined  to  stop.  Speaking,  however,  not 


102  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

phylogenetically,  but  ontogenetically,  at  what  point 
does  our  own  cell  come  in  contact  with  the  cell  that 
was  intended  to  become  an  ape,  and  that  became  and 
remained  an  ape?  If  we  accept  the  cell  theory  in 
its  latest  form,  what  meaning  can  there  be  in  the 
statement  of  the  late  Henry  Drummond,  that  "  In  a 
very  distant  period  the  progenitors  of  birds  and  the 
progenitors  of  men  were  one  and  the  same  "  ? 1  Would 
not  a  very  small  quantity  of  strictly  logical  thought 
have  cut  off  a  priori  the  bold  hypothesis  that  directly 
or  indirectly  we  descend  from  a  menagerie  ?  Every 
man,  and  consequently  all  mankind,  has  accomplished 
his  uninterrupted  embryological  development  on  his 
own  account;  no  man  and  no  human  cell  springs 
from  the  womb  of  an  ape  or  any  other  animal,  but 
only  from  the  womb  of  a  human  mother,  fertilised 
by  a  human  father.  Or  do  men  owe  their  being  to 
a  miscarriage  ? 

As  many  streams  may  flow  alongside  of  each 
other  and  through  the  same  strata,  and  one  ends 
in  a  lake  while  the  others  flow  on  and  grow  larger 
and  larger,  till  finally  one  river  attains  its  highest 
goal,  the  sea,  so  the  cells  develop  for  a  time  along- 
side of  each  other,  then  some  remain  stationary  at 
their  points  of  destination,  while  others  move  on 
farther;  but  the  cell  that  has  moved  forward  is  as 
little  derived  from  the  stationary  cell  as  the  Indus 
from  the  Sarasvati.  It  is  at  the  points  of  destination 
that  the  true  species  digress,  and  when  these  points 
1  Ascent  of  Man,  p.  187. 


CONCERNING  THE  HORSEHERD  103 

are  reached,  the  specific  development  ceases,  and 
there  remains  only  the  possibility  of  the  variety, 
the  origin  of  which  is  conditioned  by  the  multiplicity 
of  individuals ;  but  which  must  never  be  confounded 
with  a  true  species.  Every  species  represents  an  act 
of  the  will,  a  thought,  and  this  thought  cannot  be 
shaken  from  its  course,  however  close  temptation 
may  often  come. 

With  this  I  believe  I  have  cleared  up  and  refuted 
one  of  the  objections  that  my  correspondents  made, 
at  any  rate  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  Whoever  is 
convinced  that  each  individual,  be  it  fish  or  bird, 
springs  from  its  own  cell,  knows  ipso  facto  that  a 
human  cell,  however  undistinguishable  it  may  be  to 
the  human  eye  from  the  cell  of  a  catarrhine  ape, 
could  never  have  been  the  cell  of  an  ape.  And 
what  is  true  ontogenetically,  is  of  course  true  phylo- 
genetically.  For  myself  this  inquiry  into  the  simian 
origin  of  man  never  had  any  great  interest ;  I  even 
doubt  whether  the  Horseherd  would  have  laid  great 
stress  upon  it.  His  champions,  however,  plainly  con- 
sider it  one  of  the  principal  and  fundamental  questions 
on  which  our  whole  view  of  the  world  must  be 
erected.  In  my  opinion  so  little  depends  on  our 
covering  of  flesh,  that  as  I  have  often  said,  I  should 
instantly  acknowledge  an  ape  that  could  speak,  that 
is,  think  in  concepts,  as  a  man  and  brother,  in  spite 
of  his  hide,  in  spite  of  his  tail,  in  spite  of  his  stunted 
brain.  We  are  not  that  which  is  buried  or  burned. 
We  are  not  even  the  cell,  but  the  inhabitant  of  the 


104  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

cell.  But  this  leads  me  to  new  questions  and  objec- 
tions, which  have  been  made  by  the  representatives 
and  successors  of  the  Horseherd,  and  to  which  I 
hope  to  reply  on  some  other  occasion,  assuming  that 
my  own  somewhat  dilapidated  cell  holds  out  so 
long  against  wind  and  rain. 

F.  MAX  MULLER. 

FRASCATI,  April,  1897. 


IV 
LANGUAGE  AND  MIND 

THE  number  of  Horseherds  appears  to  grow  each 
month.  He  would  rejoice  to  see  the  letters  of  men 
and  women  who  are  all  on  his  side,  and  give  me 
clearly  to  understand  that  I  should  by  no  means 
imagine  that  I  have  refuted  my  unknown  friend. 
The  letter  of  Ignotus  Agnosticus  in  the  June  num- 
ber of  the  Deutsche  Rundschau  is  a  good  example 
of  these  communications.  I  have  read  it  with 
much  interest,  and  have  partly  dealt  with  it  in  my 
article  in  the  same  number;  but  I  hope  at  some 
future  time  to  answer  his  objections,  and  those  of 
several  other  correspondents,  more  fully.  I  should 
have  been  glad  to  publish  some  of  these  letters. 
But  first,  they  are  too  long,  and  they  are  far  inferior 
in  power  to  the  letter  of  the  Horseherd.  Moreover, 
they  are  usually  so  full  of  friendly  recognition,  even 
when  disagreeing  with  me,  that  it  would  ill  become 
me  to  give  them  publicity.  That  there  was  no  lack 
of  coarse  letters  as  well,  may  be  taken  for  granted ; 
these  however  were  all  anonymous,  as  if  the  writers 
were  ashamed  of  their  heroic  style.  I  have  never 
been  able  to  understand  what  attraction  there  can 

105 


106  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

be  in  coarseness.  The  coarse  work  is  generally  left 
for  the  apprentice.  Everything  coarse,  be  it  a  block, 
a  wedge,  or  a  blade,  passes  as  unfinished,  as  raw, 
jagged,  and  just  the  reverse  of  cutting.  No  one  is 
proud  of  a  coarse  shirt,  but  many,  even  quite  dis- 
tinguished people,  proudly  strut  about  the  streets 
in  a  coarse  smock  of  abusive  language,  quite  un- 
concernedly, without  any  suspicion  of  their  unsuit- 
able attire. 

Well,  I  shall  endeavour  to  be  as  fair  as  I  can  to 
my  unknown  opponents  and  friends,  the  coarse  as 
well  as  the  courteous.  I  cannot  be  coarse  myself, 
much  as  it  seems  to  be  desired  in  some  quarters  that 
I  should.  Each  one  must  determine  for  himself  what 
is  specially  meant  for  him. 

I  cannot  of  course  enter  into  all  the  objections 
that  have  been  made.  Many  have  very  little  or 
nothing  to  do  with  what  lay  nearest  the  Horse- 
herd's  heart.  The  antinomies,  for  example,  on  the 
infinity  of  space  and  time,  have  long  since  belonged 
to  the  history  of  metaphysics,  and  have  been  so 
thoroughly  worked  out  by  Kant  and  his  school  that 
there  is  hardly  anything  new  to  be  said  about  them.  In 
the  question  about  the  age  of  our  world,  we  need  only 
distinguish  between  world  as  universe  and  world  as 
our  world,  that  is,  as  the  earth  or  the  terrestrial  world. 
A  beginning  of  the  world  as  universe  is  of  course 
incomprehensible  to  us ;  but  we  may  speak  of  the 
beginning  of  the  earth,  especially  of  the  earth  as 
inhabited  by  man,  because  here,  as  Lord  Kelvin 


107 

has  shown,  astronomical  physics  and  geology  have 
enabled  us  to  fix  certain  chronological  limits,  and 
to  say  how  old  our  earth  may  be,  and  no  older  or 
younger.  When  I  said  of  the  world,  that  though 
it  were  millions  of  years  old,  there  still  was  a  time 
before  it  was  one  year  or  1897  years  old,  I  referred 
to  the  world  in  the  sense  of  our  world,  that  is,  the 
earth.  Of  the  world  as  universe  this  would  scarcely 
be  said ;  on  the  contrary,  we  should  here  apply  the 
axiom  that  every  boundary  implies  something  be- 
yond, i.e.  an  unbounded,  until  we  arrive  at  the  region 
where,  as  people  say,  the  world  is  nailed  up  with 
boards.  Many  years  ago  I  tried  to  prove  that  our 
senses  can  never  perceive  a  real  boundary,  be  it  on 
the  largest  or  the  smallest  scale ;  they  present  to  us 
everywhere  the  infinite  as  their  background,  and  every- 
thing that  has  to  do  with  religion  has  sprung  out  of 
this  infinite  background  as  its  ultimate  and  deepest 
foundation.  Instead  of  saying  that  by  our  senses 
we  perceive  only  the  finite  or  limited,  I  have  sought 
to  show  (On  the  Perception  of  the  Infinite)  that  we 
everywhere  perceive  the  unlimited,  and  that  it  is 
we,  and  not  the  objects  about  us,  that  draw  the 
boundary  lines  in  our  perceptions.  When  I  also 
called  this  unknown  omnipresence  of  the  infinite 
the  source  of  all  religion,  this  was  the  highest,  the 
most  abstract,  and  the  most  general  expression  that 
could  be  found  for  the  wide  domain  of  the  tran- 
scendent; it  had  of  course  nothing  to  do  with  the 
historical  beginnings  of  religion.  When  the  Aryans 


108  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

felt,  thought,  and  named  their  god,  their  Dyaus,  in 
the  blue  sky,  they  meant  the  blue  sky  within  the 
limits  of  the  horizon.  We  know,  however,  that 
while  they  called  the  sky  Dyaus,  they  had  in  mind 
an  infinite  subject,  a  Deva,  a  God.  But,  as  stated, 
these  things  were  remote  from  the  Horseherd,  and 
he  would  scarcely  have  had  anything  to  object. 

His  chief  objection  was  of  a  quite  different  nature. 
He  wished  to  show  that  the  human  mind  was  a  mere 
phantom  of  man's  making,  that  there  are  only  bodies 
in  the  world,  and  that  the  mind  has  sprung  from  the 
body,  and  therefore  constituted,  not  the  prius,  but 
the  posterius  of  those  bodies.  This  view  is  evidently 
widely  disseminated  and  has  found  very  abundant 
support,  at  least  in  the  letters  addressed  to  me.  "  The 
mind,"  so  wrote  the  Horseherd,  "  is  not  a  prius,  it  is 
a  development,  a  self-evolving  phenomenon."  Every- 
thing is  now  development,  and  there  is  no  better 
salve  for  all  ills  than  development.  If  our  knowledge 
of  development  is  taken  in  the  sense  of  scientific  his- 
torical inquiry,  then  we  all  agree,  for  how  can  there 
be  anything  that  has  not  developed?  In  order  to 
know  what  a  thing  is,  we  must  learn  how  it  became 
what  it  is.  A  much-admired  philosopher,  recently 
deceased,  Henry  Drummond,  who  was  quite  intoxi- 
cated with  evolution,  nevertheless  admits  quite 
plainly  in  his  last  work,  The  Ascent  of  Man,  that 
"  Order  of  events  is  history,  and  evolution  is  his- 
tory" (p.  132).  With  this  I  am  of  course  quite  satis- 
fied, for  it  is  what  I  have  been  preaching  in  season 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  109 

and  out  of  season  for  at  least  thirty  years.  But 
this  order,  or  this  sequence  of  facts,  must  be  proved 
with  scientific  accuracy,  and  not  merely  postulated. 
If  then  my  Horseherd  had  been  content  to  say,  "  The 
human  mind  is  also  a  development,"  certainly  no 
student  of  history,  least  of  all  a  philologist,  would 
have  contradicted  him.  But  he  says :  "  Max,  all 
German  savants,  or,  if  you  please,  the  majority  of 
them,  still  labour  under  the  delusion  that  mind  is  a 
prius.  But  nonsense,  Max,  mind  is  a  development, 
a  self -evolving  phenomenon.  One  would  consider  it 
impossible  that  a  thinking  man,  who  has  ever  ob- 
served a  child,  could  be  of  any  other  opinion;  why 
seek  ghosts  behind  matter?  Mind  is  a  function  of 
living  organisms,  which  belongs  also  to  a  goose  and 
a  chicken." 

In  the  Horseherd  such  language  was  excusable, 
but  for  philosophers  to  talk  in  the  same  style  is 
strange,  to  say  the  least.  How  can  such  an  asser- 
tion be  made  without  any  proof  whatever,  without 
even  a  few  words  to  explain  what  is  meant  by  the  term 
"mind"?  The  German  like  the  English  language 
swarms  with  words  that  may  be  used  interchangeably, 
though  each  of  them  has  its  own  shade  of  meaning. 
If  we  translate  Geist  (Spirit)  as  mind,  then  we  must 
consider  that  "  spirit,"  in  such  expressions  as  "  He 
has  yielded  up  his  spirit,"  means  the  same  as  the 
principle  of  life  or  physical  life.  The  same  is  true 
of  "spirit"  in  such  a  phrase  as  "his  spirit  has 
departed."  But  easy  as  it  is  to  distinguish  between 


110  THE  SILESIAN  HOKSEHERD 

spirit  in  the  sense  of  the  breath  of  life,  and  spirit 
in  the  sense  of  mind,  the  exact  definition  of  such 
words  as  intellect,  reason,  understanding,  thought, 
consciousness,  or  self-consciousness  becomes  very 
difficult,  to  say  nothing  of  soul  and  feeling  in 
their  various  activities.  These  words  are  used  in 
both  English  and  German  so  confusedly  that  we 
often  hesitate  merely  to  touch  them.  Now  if  we 
say  that  the  mind  is  a  development,  and  is  not  a 
prius,  what  idea  ought  it  to  suggest?  Does  this 
mean  the  principle  of  life,  or  the  understanding,  or 
the  reason,  or  consciousness  ?  We  suffer  here  from  a 
real  and  very  dangerous  embarras  de  richesse.  The 
v  words  are  often  intended  to  signify  the  same  things, 
only  viewed  under  different  aspects.  But  as  there 
were  various  words,  it  was  believed  that  they  must 
also  signify  various  things.  Different  philosophers 
have  further  advanced  different  definitions  of  these 
words,  until  it  was  finally  supposed  that  each  of  these 
names  must  be  borne  by  a  separate  subject,  while 
some  of  them  originally  only  signified  activities  of 
one  and  the  same  substance.  Understanding,  rea- 
son, and  thought  originally  expressed  properties  or 
activities,  the  activities  of  understanding,  of  perceiv- 
ing, of  thinking,  and  their  elevation  to  nouns  was 
simply  psychological  mythology,  which  has  pre- 
vailed, and  still  prevails  just  as  extensively  as  the 
physical  mythology  of  the  ancient  Aryan  peoples. 

It  would  be  most  useful  if  we  could  lay  aside  all 
these  mouldy  and  decayed  expressions,  and  introduce 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  111 

a  word  that  simply  means  what  is  not  understood  by 
body,  the  subject,  in  opposition  to  the  objective  world. 
It  would  by  no  means  follow  that  what  is  not  body 
must  therefore  exist  independent  of  the  body.  It 
would  first  of  all  only  declare  that  beside  the  ob- 
jective body  perceived  by  the  senses,  there  is  also 
something  subjective,  which  the  five  senses  cannot 
perceive.  The  best  name  for  this  appears  to  me  still 
to  be  the  Vedantic  term  Atman,  which  I  translate 
into  "  the  Self  "  (neuter),  because  our  language  will 
scarcely  allow  the  phrase  "the  Self"  (masculine). 
"  Soul "  has  a  too  tender  quality  to  be  the  equivalent 
of  Atman. 

This  Self  is  something  that  exists  for  itself  and  not 
for  others.  While  everything  that  is  purely  corporeal 
only  exists  for  us  men,  inasmuch  as  it  is  perceived, 
the  Self  exists  by  reason  of  the  fact  that  it  perceives. 
While  the  Esse  of  all  objects  is  a  per  dpi,  a  some- 
thing perceived,  which  has  come  into  knowledge,  the 
Esse  of  the  self  is  a  percipere,  a  perceiving,  a  know- 
ing, that  is,  the  Self  can  only  be  thought  of  as  self- 
knowing.  The  Self  exists  even  when  it  does  not  yet 
clearly  know  itself,  but  it  is  not  the  real  Self  until  it 
knows  itself ;  and  it  requires  long  and  earnest  thought 
for  the  Self  to  know  or  recognise  itself  as  different 
from  the  ego  or  the  body.  But  if  the  Self  has  once 
come  to  itself,  the  darkness  or  the  phenomenal  ap- 
pearance which  the  Vedanta  philosophers  called 
Avidyd  (not  knowing,  ignorance),  or  also  Mdyd  (ap- 
pearance, or  illusion),  vanishes. 


112  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

The  origin  of  this  ignorance,  this  illusion,  or  the 
world  of  appearance,  is  a  question  which  no  human 
being  will  ever  solve.  There  are  questions  which 
must  be  set  aside  as  simply  ultra  vires  by  every  rea- 
sonable philosophy.  We  know  that  we  cannot  hear 
certain  tones,  cannot  see  certain  colours ;  why  not 
then  understand  that  we  cannot  comprehend  certain 
things?  The  Vedanta  philosophers  consider  the 
Avidyd  (ignorance)  as  inexplicable,  and  this  was  no 
doubt  originally  implied  in  the  name  which  they 
gave  it.  Their  aim  was,  to  prove  the  temporal  exist- 
ence of  such  an  Avidyd,  not  to  discover  its  origin ; 
and  then  in  the  Vidyd,  the  Ved&nta  philosophy,  to 
set  forth  the  means  by  which  the  Avidya  could  be 
destroyed.  How  or  when  the  Self  came  into  this 
ignorance,  Avidyd,  or  Mdyd  (illusion,  or  the  phe- 
nomenal world),  the  Vedanta  philosophers  no  more 
sought  to  explain  than  we  seek  to  explain  how  the 
Self  comes  into  the  body,  the  bodily  senses,  and  the 
phenomenal  world  which  they  perceive.  We  begin 
our  philosophy  with  what  is  given  us,  that  is,  with  a 
Self,  that  in  its  embodiment  knows  everything  that 
befalls  the  body ;  that  for  a  time  is  blended  with  the 
body,  till  it  attains  a  true  self-knowledge,  and  then, 
even  in  life,  or  later  in  death,  by  liberation  from  its 
phenomenal  existence,  or  from  the  body,  again  comes 
to  itself. 

How  this  body,  with  its  senses  that  convey  and 
present  to  us  the  phenomenal  world,  originated  or 
developed,  is  a  question  that  belongs  to  biology.  So 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  113 

far  as  is  possible  to  the  human  understanding,  this 
question  has  been  solved  by  the  cell  theory.  The 
other  question  is  the  development  of  what  we  call 
mind,  that  is,  the  subjective  knowledge  of  the  phe- 
nomenal world.  To  this  the  body,  as  it  exists  and 
lives,  and  the  organs  of  sense,  as  they  exist,  are  essen- 
tial. We  know  that  all  sense-perceptions  depend 
upon  bodily  vibrations,  i.e.  the  nerves ;  and  if  we 
wish  to  make  plain  the  transition  of  impressions  to 
conscious  ideas,  we  can  best  do  so  through  the 
assumption  of  the  Self  as  a  witness  or  accessory  to 
the  nerve-vibrations.  This,  however,  is  only  an 
image,  not  an  explanation,  for  an  explanation  belongs 
to  the  Utopia  of  philosophy.  How  it  happens  that 
atoms  think,  atomists  do  not  know,  and  no  one 
should  imagine  that  so-called  Darwinism  has  helped 
or  can  help  us  even  one  step  farther.  Whatever 
some  Darwinians  may  say,  nothing  can  be  simpler 
than  the  frank  admission  of  ignorance  on  this  point 
on  the  part  of  Darwin.  The  frank  and  modest 
expressions  of  this  great  but  sober  thinker  are  gen- 
erally passed  over  in  silence,  or  are  even  controverted 
as  signs  of  a  temporary  weakness.  To  me,  on  the 
contrary,  they  are  very  valuable,  and  very  char- 
acteristic of  Darwin. 

In  one  place l  he  says,  "  I  have  nothing  to  do  with 

\  the  origin  of  the  primary  mental  power  any  more  than 

I  have  with  that  of  life  itself."     In  another  place2 

1  Origin  of  Species,  6th  ed.,  1869,  p.  255. 

2  Descent  of  Man,  1871,  Vol.  I,  p.  36. 


114  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

he  speaks  still  more  plainly  and  says,  "  In  what  man- 
ner the  mental  powers  were  first  developed  in  the 
lowest  organisms  is  as  hopeless  an  inquiry  as  how 
life  first  originated."  Let  no  one  suppose,  therefore, 
that  all  gates  and  doors  can  be  opened  with  the  word 
"evolution"  or  the  name  Darwin.  It  is  easy  to  say 
with  Drummond,  "Evolution  is  revolutionising  the 
world  of  nature  and  of  thought,  and  within  living 
memory  has  opened  up  avenues  into  the  past  and 
vistas  into  the  future  such  as  science  has  never  wit- 
nessed before." *  Those  are  bold  words,  but  what  do 
they  mean  or  prove  ?  DuBois-Reymond  has  said  long 
x  before,  "  How  consciousness  can  arise  from  the  co- 
v  operation  of  atoms  is  beyond  our  comprehension." 
In  the  Contemporary  Review,  November,  1871, 2  Hux- 
ley speaks  just  as  decidedly  as  Darwin  in  the  name 
of  biology,  "I  really  know  nothing  whatever,  and 
never  hope  to  know  anything,  of  the  steps  by  which 
the  passage  from  molecular  movement  to  states  of 
consciousness  is  effected."  Molecules  and  atoms  are 
objects  of  knowledge.  If  we  ascribe  knowledge  to 
them,  they  immediately  become  the  monads  of  Leibnitz; 
you  may  evolve  out  of  them  what  you  have  first 
involved  into  them.  Knowledge  belongs  to  the  Self 
alone,  call  it  what  we  will.  The  nerve-fibres  might 
vibrate  as  often  as  they  pleased,  millions  and  millions 
of  times  in  a  second ;  they  would  never  produce  the 
sensation  of  red  if  there  were  no  Self  as  the  receiver 
and  illuminator,  the  translator  of  these  vibrations  of 
1  Ascent  of  Man,  1894,  p.  9.  2  Vol.  XVIII,  p.  464. 


LANGUAGE   AND  MIND  115 

ether ;  this  Self,  that  alone  receives,  alone  illumines, 
alone  knows,  and  of  which  we  can  say  nothing  more 
than  what  the  Indian  philosophers  call  sa&-&id-&nanda, 
that  it  exists,  that  it  perceives,  and  as  they  add,  that 
it  is  blessed,  i.e.  that  it  is  complete  in  itself,  serene 
and  eternal. 

If  we  take  a  firm  stand  on  this  living  and  perceiv- 
ing Self  (for  &id  is  not  so  much  thinking  as  perceiv- 
ing, or  knowing),  there  can  then  be  no  question  that 
it  is  present  not  only  in  men,  but  in  animals  as  well ; 
only  let  us  beware  of  the  inference  that  what  we 
mean  by  human  mind,  that  is,  understanding  and 
reasoning  thought,  is  a  necessary  function  of  all  living 
organisms,  and  is  possessed  also  by  a  goose  or  a 
chicken.  It  is  just  the  same  with  the  perceiving  Self 
as  it  is  with  the  cell.  To  the  eye  they  are  all  alike. 
To  express  it  figuratively,  one  cell  has  a  ticket  to 
Cologne,  another  to  Paris,  a  third  to  London.  Each 
reaches  its  destination,  and  then  remains  stationary, 
and  no  power  on  earth  can  make  it  advance  beyond 
the  place  to  which  it  is  ticketed,  that  is,  its  original 
destination,  its  fundamental  eternal  idea.  It  is  just 
the  same  with  the  perceiving  Self.  It  is  true  that 
the  Self  sees,  hears,  and  thinks.  As  there  are  ani- 
mals that  cannot  see,  that  cannot  hear,  so  there  are 
animals  —  and  this  class  includes  the  whole  of  them 
—  that  cannot  speak.  It  is  true  that  the  speaking 
animals,  that  is  men,  have  passed  the  former  stations 
on  a  fast  train ;  but  they  did  not  leave  the  train,  nor 
have  they  anything  in  common  with  those  who  re- 


116  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

mained  behind  at  previous  stations,  least  of  all  can 
we  consider  them  as  the  offspring  of  those  that 
remained  behind.  This  is  only  a  simile,  and  should 
not  provoke  ridicule.  Of  course  it  will  be  said  that 
those  who  can  journey  to  Cologne  may  go  on  to 
Paris,  and  once  in  Paris  may  easily  cross  the  Channel. 
We  must  not  ride  a  comparison  to  death,  but  always 
adhere  to  the  facts.  Why  does  not  grass  grow  as 
high  as  a  poplar,  why  is  care  taken,  as  Goethe  says, 
that  no  tree  grows  up  to  the  sky?  A  strawberry 
might  grow  as  large  as  a  cucumber  or  a  pumpkin,  but 
it  does  not.  Who  draws  the  line  ?  It  is  true,  too, 
that  along  every  line  slight  deviations  take  place 
right  and  left.  Nearly  each  year  we  hear  of  an 
abnormally  large  strawberry,  and  no  doubt  abnor- 
mally small  ones  could  be  found  as  well.  But  in 
spite  of  all,  the  normal  remains.  And  whence  comes 
it,  if  not  from  the  same  hand  or  the  same  source 
which  we  compared  with  the  ticket  agent  at  the 
railway  station,  in  whom  all  who  are  familiar  with 
the  history  of  philosophy  will  again  readily  recognise 
the  Greek  Logos  ? 

These  comparisons  should  at  least  be  so  far  useful 
as  to  disclose  the  confusion  of  thought,  when,  for  in- 
stance, Mr.  Romanes  holds  that  it  is  not  only  compre- 
hensible, but  the  conclusion  is  unavoidable,  that  the 
human  mind  has  sprung  from  the  minds  of  the  higher 
quadrumana  on  the  line  of  natural  genesis.  The 
human  mind  may  mean  every  possible  thing ;  the 
question  therefore  arises  if  he  refers  only  to  con- 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  117 

sciousness,  or  to  understanding  and  reason.  In  the 
second  place  the  human  mind  is  not  something  sub- 
sisting by  itself,  but  can  only  be  the  mind  of  an  in- 
dividual man.  We  cannot  be  too  careful  in  these 
discussions  —  otherwise  we  only  end  by  substituting 
bare  abstractions  for  concrete  things.  We  do  not 
know  the  human  mind  as  anything  concrete  at  all, 
only  as  an  abstraction,  and  in  that  case  only  as  the 
mind  of  one  man,  or  of  many  men.  How  can  it  then 
be  thought  that  my  mind  or  the  mind  of  Darwin 
sprang  from  the  minds  of  the  higher  quadrumana. 
We  may  say  such  things,  but  what  meaning  can  we 
attach  to  them  ?  The  same  misconception  exists  here, 
if  I  am  not  mistaken,  as  in  the  statement,  that  the 
human  body  springs  from  the  bodies  of  the  higher 
quadrupeds  —  a  misconception  to  which  we  have  al- 
ready referred.  That  has  absolutely  no  sense  if  we 
only  hold  firmly,  that  every  organised  body  was  origi- 
nally a  cell,  or  originates  in  a  cell,  and  that  each  cell, 
even  in  its  most  complicated,  manifold,  and  perfect 
form,  always  is,  and  remains,  an  individual.  It  is 
useless  therefore  to  talk  of  a  descent  of  the  human 
mind  from  the  minds  of  the  higher  quadrupeds,  for 
no  intelligible  meaning  can  be  discovered  in  it ;  we 
should  have  to  fall  back  on  a  miscarriage,  and  to  set 
up  this  miscarriage  as  the  mother  of  all  men,  and  with- 
out a  legitimate  father.  Such  are  the  wanderings  of 
a  wrong  method  of  thought,  even  if  it  struts  about 
in  kingly  robes. 

Above  all  things  we  must  settle  what  we  are  really 


118  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

to  understand  by  the  mind  of  the  higher  quadrupeds 
as  distinguished  from  the  human  mind.  What  is  there 
lacking  in  these  animal  minds  to  make  them  human  ? 
And  what  do  they  possess,  or  what  are  they,  that  they 
should  claim  equal  birth  with  man?  How  much 
obscurity  there  is  in  these  matters  among  the  best 
animal  psychologists  is  seen  when,  for  instance,  we 
compare  the  assertions  of  Romanes  with  those  of  Lloyd 
Morgan.  While  the  former  sets  up  a  natural  genesis  of 
the  human  mind  from  animal  mind  as  being  indispu- 
table and  as  not  being  thinkable  in  any  other  way,  the 
latter,  his  greatest  admirer,  says,  "  Believing,  as  I  do, 
that  conception  is  beyond  the  power  of  my  favourite 
and  clever  dog,  I  am  forced  to  believe  that  his  mind 
differs  generically  from  my  own. "  l  Undoubtedly  by 
"  generically "  is  meant,  according  to  his  genus  or 
his  genesis.  But  in  spite  of  this,  the  same  savant  says 
in  another  place,  that  he  cannot  allow  that  there  is  a 
difference  in  kind,  that  is  in  genere,  between  the  hu- 
man mind  and  the  mind  of  a  dog.  If  men  would 
only  define  their  words,  such  contradictions  would  in 
time  become  impossible. 

What  men  and  animals  have  in  common  is  the  Self, 
and  this  so-called  Self  consists  first  of  all  in  percep- 
tion. This  perception  belongs,  as  has  been  said,  to 
those  things  which  are  given  us,  and  not  to  those 
which  can  be  explained.  It  is  a  property  of  the 
eternal  Self,  as  of  light,  to  shine,  to  illumine  itself, 
that  is,  to  know.  Its  knowing  is  its  being,  and  its 
1  Lloyd  Morgan,  Animal  Life  and  Intelligence,  p.  350. 


LANGUAGE   AND  MIND  119 

being  is  its  knowing,  or  its  self-consciousness.  If  we 
take  the  Self  as  we  find  it,  not  merely  in  itself,  but 
embodied,  we  must  attribute  to  it,  besides  its  own 
self-consciousness,  a  consciousness  of  the  conditions  of 
the  body ;  but  of  course  we  must  not  imagine  that  we 
can  make  this  embodiment  in  any  way  conceivable  to 
us.  It  is  so  —  that  is  all  that  we  can  say,  just  as  in  an 
earlier  consideration  of  the  embodiment  and  multipli- 
cation of  the  eternal  Logos  we  had  to  accept  this  as  a 
datum,  without  being  able  to  come  any  nearer  to  the 
fact  by  conceptions,  or  even  by  mere  analogies.  This 
is  where  the  task  of  the  psychologist  begins.  Grant 
the  self-consciousness  of  the  individual,  although  still 
very  obscure ;  grant  the  sentient  perception ;  every- 
thing else  that  we  call  mind  is  the  result  of  a  develop- 
ment, which  we  must  follow  historically  in  order  to 
understand  that  it  could  not  come  about  in  any  other 
way.  But  where  are  the  facts,  where  the  monuments, 
where  the  trustworthy  documents,  from  which  we  can 
draw  our  knowledge  of  this  wonderful  development  ? 
Four  sources  have  been  propounded  for  the  study 
of  psychogenesis.  It  has  been  said  that  to  investigate 
the  development  of  the  human  mind,  the  following 
objects  must  be  scientifically  observed  :  (1)  The  mind 
of  a  child ;  (2)  the  mind  of  the  lower  animals ;  (3) 
the  survivals  of  the  oldest  culture,  as  we  find  it  in 
ethnological  collections  ;  (4)  the  mind  of  still  living 
savages.  I  formerly  entertained  similar  hopes,  but  in 
my  own  melancholy  experience  all  these  studies  end 
in  delusion,  in  so  far  as  they  are  applied  to  explain  the 


120  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

genesis  of  the  human  mind.  They  do  not  reach  far 
enough,  they  give  us  everywhere  only  the  products 
of  growth,  the  result  of  art,  not  the  natural  growth, 
or  the  real  evolution.  The  observations  on  the 
development  of  a  child's  mind  are  very  attractive, 
especially  when  they  are  made  by  thoughtful  mothers. 
But  this  nursery  psychology  is  wanting  in  all  scien- 
tific exactness.  The  object  of  observation,  the  child 
that  cannot  yet  speak,  can  never  be  entirely  iso- 
lated. Its  environment  is  of  incalculable  influence, 
and  the  petted  child  develops  very  differently  from  the 
neglected  foundling.  The  early  smile  of  the  one  is  often 
as  much  a  reflex  action  as  the  crying  and  blustering 
of  the  other,  from  hunger  or  inherited  disease.  Much 
as  I  admire  the  painstaking  effort  with  which  the  first 
evidences  of  perception  or  of  mental  activity  in  a  child 
have  been  recorded  from  day  to  day,  from  week  to 
week,  these  observations  prove  untrustworthy  when  we 
endeavour  to  control  them  independently.  It  has  been 
said  that  the  mental  activities  of  a  child  develop  in 
the  following  order :  — 

After  three  weeks  fear  is  manifested ; 

After  seven  weeks  social  affections ; 

After  twelve  weeks  jealousy  and  anger ; 

After  five  months  sympathy ; 

After  eight  months,  pride,  sentiment,  love  of  orna- 
ment; 

After  fifteen  months,  shame,  remorse,  a  sense  of  the 
ludicrous.1 

1  H.  Drummond,  Ascent  of  Man,  1894,  p.  169. 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  121 

We  may  generalise  this  scale  as  much  as  we  please, 
and  gradually  permit  the  gradations  to  vanish,  but 
I  doubt  if  even  two  mothers  could  be  found  who 
would  agree  in  such  an  interpretation  of  their  chil- 
dren's looks.  Add  to  this  that  this  whole  scale  has 
very  little  to  do  with  what,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the 
word,  we  call  mind.  From  fear  up  to  shame  and  peni- 
tence are  all  manifestations  simply  of  the  feelings,  and 
not  of  the  mind.  We  know  that  what  we  call  fear  is 
often  a  reflex  action,  as  when  a  child  closes  its  eyelids 
before  a  blow.  What  has  been  named  jealousy  in  a 
child,  is  often  nothing  but  hunger,  while  shame  is  in- 
stilled into  one  child,  and  in  others  is  by  no  means  of 
spontaneous  growth. 

The  worst  feature  of  such  observations  is  that  they 
are  very  quickly  regarded  as  safe  ground,  and  are 
reared  higher  and  higher  until  in  the  end  the  entire 
scaffold  collapses.  In  order  to  establish  the  truth  of 
this  psychologic  scale  in  children  still  more  firmly, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  make  good  its  universal 
necessity,  an  effort  has  been  made  to  prove  that  a 
similar  scale  is  to  be  found  in  the  animal  kingdom, 
and  of  course  what  was  sought  has  been  found. 
Romanes  asserts  that  the  lowest  order  of  animals,  the 
annelids,  only  show  traces  of  fear ;  a  little  higher  in 
the  scale,  in  insects,  are  found  social  instincts  such 
as  industry,  combativeness,  and  curiosity;  another 
step  higher,  fishes  exhibit  jealousy,  and  birds,  sym- 
pathy ;  then  in  carnivorous  animals  follow  cruelty, 
hate,  and  grief ;  and  lastly,  in  the  anthropoid  apes, 


122  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

remorse,  shame,  and  a  sense  of  the  ridiculous,  as  well 
as  deceit.  It  needs  but  one  step  more  to  make  this 
scale,  which  belongs  much  more  to  the  sphere  of  feel- 
ing than  the  realm  of  thought,  universally  applicable 
to  all  psychology.  How  should  we  otherwise  explain 
the  parallelism  between  the  mental  development  of 
infants  and  that  of  undeveloped  animals  ?  One  need 
but  take  a  firm  hold  of  such  observations,  and  they 
are  transformed  into  airy  visions.  Who,  for  instance, 
would  dare  to  distinguish  the  traces  of  fear  in  an- 
nelids from  those  of  surprise  in  higher  animals? 
Nevertheless  fear  occupies  the  first  place,  surprise 
the  third.  And  what  mark  distinguished  combative- 
ness  in  insects  from  jealousy  in  fishes  ?  In  the  same 
way  I  doubt  if  any  two  nurses  would  agree  in  the 
chronology  of  the  phenomena  of  the  infant  disposi- 
tion, and  have  therefore  long  since  given  up  all  hope 
of  obtaining  any  hints  either  in  embryological  or 
physiological  development,  about  the  real  historical 
unfolding  of  the  human  consciousness,  either  out  of 
a  nursery  or  out  of  a  zoological  garden. 

As  for  ethnological  museums,  they  certainly  give 
us  wonderful  glimpses  into  the  skilfulness  of  primi- 
tive man,  especially  in  what  relates  to  the  struggle 
for  life ;  but  of  the  historic  or  prehistoric  age  of 
these  wood,  horn,  and  stone  weapons,  they  tell  us 
absolutely  nothing.  Whoever  thinks  that  man  de- 
scended from  an  ape,  may  no  doubt  say  that  flint 
implements  for  kindling  fire  belonged  to  a  higher 
period,  post  hominem  natum,  although  it  has  been 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  123 

thought  that  even  apes  could  have  imitated  such 
weapons,  though  they  could  not  have  invented  them. 
Romanes,  in  his  book  on  Mental  Evolution  in  Animals, 
has  collected  a  large  number  of  illustrations  of  animal 
skilf ulness ;  the  majority  of  them,  however,  are  ex- 
plained by  mere  mimicry ;  of  a  development  of  origi- 
nal ideas  peculiar  to  animals  in  their  wild  state,  apart 
from  the  contact  and  influence  of  human  society,  there 
is  no  trace.  Even  the  most  intelligent  animal,  the 
elephant,  acquires  reason  only  in  its  intercourse  with 
men,  and  similarly  the  more  or  less  trained  apes,  dogs, 
parrots,  etc.  All  this  is  very  interesting  reading, 
and  an  English  weekly,  The  Spectator,  has  from  week 
to  week  given  us  similar  anecdotes  about  wonderfully 
gifted  animals  from  all  parts  of  the  earth,  but  these 
matters  lie  outside  the  narrow  sphere  of  science. 

What  then  remains  to  enable  us  to  study  the  earli- 
est phase  of  development  of  the  human  mind  accessi- 
ble to  us?  If  we  go  to  savages,  whose  language  we 
only  understand  imperfectly,  these  observations  are  of 
course  still  more  untrustworthy  than  in  the  case  of  our 
own  children  ;  at  all  events  we  must  wait  before  we 
receive  any  really  valuable  evidence  of  the  develop- 
ment of  the  human  mind  from  that  source.  I  repeat 
that  the  human  mind  itself,  as  far  as  it  perceives, 
must  simply  be  accepted  as  a  fact,  given  to  us  and 
inexplicable,  whether  in  civilised  or  uncivilised  races ; 
but  only  in  its  greatest  simplicity,  as  mere  self- 
conscious  perception  —  a  perception  which  in  this 
simplicity  can  in  no  wise  be  denied  to  animals,  al- 


124  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHEKD 

though  we  can  only  with  difficulty  form  a  clear  idea 
of  the  peculiarity  of  their  sentient  perceptions. 

Where  can  we  observe  the  first  steps  that  rise  above 
this  simple  perception  ?  I  say,  as  I  have  always  said, 
In  language  and  in  language  alone.  Language  is  the 
oldest  monument  which  we  possess  of  man's  mental 
power,  older  than  stone  weapons,  than  cuneiform  in- 
scriptions, than  hieroglyphics.  The  development  of 
language  is  continuous,  for  where  this  continuity  is 
broken,  language  dies.  After  every  Tasmanian  had 
been  killed  or  had  died,  the  Tasmanian  language  ipso 
facto  ceased;  and  even  if  any  literary  remains  had 
survived,  the  language  itself  would  have  to  be  reck- 
oned, like  Latin  and  Greek,  with  dead  languages. 
Thousands  of  them  may  have  disappeared  from  the 
earth;  in  its  development  a  language  may  have 
changed  as  much  as  Sanskrit  to  Bengali ;  but  it  suffers 
no  break,  it  remains  always  the  same,  and  in  a  certain 
sense  we  still  speak  in  German  the  same  tongue  as 
was  spoken  by  the  Aryans  before  there  was  a  San- 
skrit, a  Greek,  or  a  Latin  language.  Consider  what 
this  signifies.  Chronologically,  we  cannot  get  at 
this  primitive  Aryan  speech.  Let  us  assume  that 
Sanskrit,  Greek,  and  Latin  were  spoken  as  inde- 
pendent national  tongues  at  least  fifteen  hundred 
years  before  our  chronology  —  what  an  age  had 
elapsed  before  these  three,  as  well  as  the  remaining 
Aryan  tongues,  could  have  diverged  so  much  as  San- 
skrit diverges  from  Greek  and  Greek  from  Latin. 
The  numerals  are  the  same  in  these  three  languages, 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  125 

and  yet  katvaras  sounds  quite  differently  from  reaaa- 
/3€9  and  quatuor  and  our  four.  The  words  for  eight, 
octo  in  Latin,  OKTCO  in  Greek,  and  ash£au  in  Sanskrit, 
are  nearly  identical ;  and  it  is  even  possible  that  the 
lesser  deviations  in  the  pronunciation  of  these  words 
demanded  no  great  interval  of  time.  But  now  let  us 
consider  what  lies  behind  these  ten  numerals.  There 
is  the  elaboration  of  a  decimal  system  from  1  to  10, 
no,  to  100  (e/caroV),  Sanskrit  satdm,  centum.  There 
is  the  formation  and  fixing  of  names  for  these  num- 
bers, which  must  have  been  originally  more  or  less 
arbitrary,  because  numbers  only  subordinate  them- 
selves with  difficulty  to  one  of  those  general  ideas 
which  are  expressed  in  the  Aryan  roots.  Besides 
these  words  are,  even  in  their  oldest  attainable  forms, 
already  so  weather-beaten,  that  in  most  cases  it  is  im- 
possible even  to  guess  their  etymology  and  original 
meaning.  We  see  that  the  names  for  two  and  eight 
are  dual,  while  those  for  three  and  four  clearly  have 
plural  endings.  But  why  eight  in  the  primitive 
Aryan  was  a  dual,  and  what  were  the  two  tetrads, 
which,  combined  in  ash£-au,  oct-o,  O/CT-W,  expressed  the 
number  eight,  will  probably  never  be  discovered.  It 
is  possible  that  ash£-i  was  a  name  for  the  four  phases 
of  the  moon,  or  for  the  four  fingers  of  the  hand  with- 
out the  thumb.  Analogies  occur  in  other  families  of 
language,  but  certainty  is  beyond  our  reach.  If  we 
now  consider  what  mental  effort  is  necessary  to  work 
out  a  decimal  system,  and  to  secure  general  recogni- 
tion and  value  for  the  name  given  to  each  number, 


126  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

we  shall  readily  realise  what  remote  periods  in  the 
development  of  the  human  mind  open  up  before  us 
here,  and  of  how  little  use  it  would  be  to  try  to  estab- 
lish chronological  limits.  Old  as  the  Vedas,  old  as 
the  Homeric  songs  may  be,  what  is  their  age  com- 
pared with  the  periods  that  were  required  not  only 
to  work  out  the  numerals  but  the  entire  treasury  of 
Aryan  words,  and  the  wonderful  network  of  grammar 
that  surrounds  this  treasure,  which  also  was  complete 
before  the  separation  of  the  Aryan  languages  began. 
The  immeasurable  cannot  be  measured,  but  this 
much  stands  immovable  in  the  mind  of  every  lin- 
guist, that  there  is  nothing  older  in  the  entire  Aryan 
world  than  the  complete  primitive  Aryan  language 
v  and  grammar,  in  which  nearly  all  the  categories  of 
x  thought,  and  consequently  the  whole  scaffold  of  our 
thinking,  have  found  their  expression. 

Of  course  it  will  be  said  that  all  this  only  applies 
to  the  Aryan  race,  and  that  they  constitute  only  a 
small  and  perhaps  the  youngest  portion  of  the  hu- 
man race.  Well,  it  is  difficult  to  prove  that  the 
Aryans  constitute  the  least  numerous  subdivision. 
We  know  too  little  of  their  great  masses  to  attempt 
a  census.  That  they  are  the  youngest  branch  of  the 
human  race  is  really  of  no  consequence;  we  should 
then  have  to  assume  against  all  Darwinian  prin- 
ciples, various,  not  contemporaneous,  but  successive 
monstrosities,  slowly  ascending  to  humanity,  and 
this  would  only  be  pure  invention.  Nothing  ab- 
solutely compels  us  to  ascribe  a  shorter  earthly  life 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  127 

to  those  races  which  speak  Chinese,  Semitic,  Bantu, 
American,  Australian,  or  other  languages,  than  to 
the  Aryans.  That  all  races  have  begun  on  a  lower 
plane  of  culture,  and  especially  of  the  knowledge  of 
language,  will  no  doubt  be  universally  acknowledged. 
But  even  if  we  only  place  the  first  beginnings  of  the 
Aryan  race  at  10,000  B.C.,  there  is  time  enough  for  it 
and  other  races  to  have  risen,  and  also  to  have  again 
declined.  The  difference  would  merely  be  that  the 
Aryans,  in  spite  of  many  drawbacks,  on  the  whole 
constantly  progressed,  while  the  Australians,  Negroes, 
and  Patagonians,  forced  into  unfavourable  positions, 
remained  stationary  on  a  very  low  level.  That  their 
present  plane  can  in  any  respect,  and  especially  in  re- 
gard to  their  language,  supply  a  picture  of  the  earliest 
condition  of  the  human  race,  or  even  of  certain 
branches  of  it,  is  again  mere  assumption,  and  as  bare 
of  all  analogy  as  the  attempt  to  see  in  the  salons  of 
London  a  picture  of  Aryan  family  life  before  the  first 
separation.  There  are  savages  who  are  cannibals. 
Shall  we  conclude  from  this  that  the  first  men  all  de- 
voured each  other,  or  that  only  those  who  were  least 
appetising  remained  over  as  survivals  of  the  fittest? 
It  is  remarkable  how  many  ideas  are  current  in  science 
which  the  healthy  human  mind,  after  short  reflection, 
silently  lays  aside.  Any  one  who  has  occupied  him- 
self with  the  polysynthetic  tongues  of  the  Redskins, 
or  with  the  prefixes  in  the  languages  of  the  Bantus, 
knows  how  much  time  must  have  been  needed  to 
develop  their  grammar,  and  how  much  higher  the 


128  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

makers  of   these   languages  must   have   stood   than 
those  who  speak  them  now. 

But  even  if  language  is  the  oldest  chronicle  in  which 
the  human  mind  has  traced  its  own  development,  we 
must  by  no  means  imagine  that  any  known  language, 
be  it  as  old  as  the  pyramids,  or  as  the  cuneiform  in- 
scriptions, can  offer  us  a  picture  of  the  first  beginning 
of  the  mental  life  of  the  race.  Long  before  the  pyra- 
mids, long  before  the  oldest  monuments  in  Babylon, 
Nineveh,  and  China,  there  was  language,  even  writ- 
ing; for  on  the  oldest  Egyptian  inscriptions  we  find 
among  the  hieroglyphic  signs  writing  materials  and 
the  stilus.  Here  perspectives  open  up  to  us,  before 
which  every  chronological  telescope  gives  way.  There 
is  a  rigorous  continuity  in  the  development  of  a  lan- 
guage, but  this  continuity  in  no  wise  excludes  a 
transformation  as  marked  as  that  of  the  butterfly 
from  the  caterpillar.  Even  when,  as  for  instance  in 
Sanskrit,  we  go  back  to  a  number  of  roots,  to  which 
Indian  grammarians  such  as  Pawini  have  systemati- 
cally traced  back  the  entire  wealth  of  their  abundant 
language,  we  must  not  suppose  that  these  roots  really 
constituted  the  original  and  complete  material  with 
which  the  primitive  Aryan  tongue  began  its  historical 
career.  This  is  not  true  even  of  the  Indian  branch 
of  this  primitive  tongue,  for  in  its  development  much 
may  have  been  lost,  and  much  so  changed  that  we 
dare  not  think  of  restoring  a  perfect  picture  from 
these  fragments  of  the  earliest  mental  development 
of  the  Indians.  These  things  are  so  simple  that  phi- 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  129 

lologists  accept  them  as  axioms  ;  but  it  is  curious 
to  observe,  that  in  spite  of  the  widespread  interest 
that  has  been  created  in  all  civilised  nations  by  the 
results  of  the  science  of  language,  philosophers  who 
write  about  language  and  its  relation  to  thought  still 
trouble  themselves  over  notions  long  since  antiquated. 
I  had,  for  instance,  classified  the  principal  ideas  ex- 
pressed in  Sanskrit  roots,  and  had  reduced  them  to 
the  small  number  of  121.1  With  these  121  ideas,  Ind- 
ian philology  pledges  itself  to  explain  all  the  simple 
and  derivative  meanings  of  words  that  fill  the  thick 
volumes  of  a  Sanskrit  lexicon.  And  what  did  eth- 
nologists say  to  this?  Instead  of  gratefully  accepting 
this  fact,  they  asserted  that  many  of  these  121  radi- 
cal ideas,  as  for  instance,  weaving  or  cooking,  could 
not  possibly  be  primitive.  Impossible  is  always  a 
very  convenient  word.  But  who  ever  claimed  that 
these  121  fundamental  ideas  all  belonged  to  the  prim- 
itive Aryan  language.  They  are,  in  fact,  the  ideas 
that  are  indicated  in  the  thousands  of  words  in  clas- 
sical Sanskrit,  but  they  have  never  made  any  claim 
to  have  constituted  the  mental  capital  of  the  primi- 
tive Aryans,  whether  acquired  from  heaven  or  from 
the  domicile  of  apes.  And  if  now  a  few  of  these 
ideas,  such  as  to  weave,  to  cook,  to  clean,  appear 
modern,  what  of  that  compared  with  the  simple  fact 
that  they  are  actually  there  ? 

These  ethnologists,  too,  always  make  the  old  mis- 
take of  confounding  the  learning  of  a  language,  as 
1  See  Science  of  Thought,  p.  406. 


130  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

is  done  by  every  child,  with  the  first  invention  or 
formation  of  a  language.  The  two  things  are  as 
radically  different  as  the  labour  of  miners  who  bring 
forth  to  the  light  of  day  gold  ore  out  of  the  depths 
of  the  earth,  and  the  enjoyment  which  the  heirs  of  a 
rich  man  have  in  squandering  his  cash.  The  two 
things  are  quite  different,  and  yet  there  are  books 
upon  books  which  attempt  to  draw  conclusions  as  to 
the  creation  of  language  from  children  learning  to 
talk.  We  have  at  least  now  got  so  far  as  to  admit 
that  language  facilitates  thinking  ;  but  that  language 
first  made  thought  possible,  that  it  was  the  first  step 
in  the  development  of  the  human  mind,  but  few 
anthropologists  have  seen.1  They  do  not  know  what 
language  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word  means,  and 
still  think  that  it  is  only  communication,  and  that  it 
does  not  differ  from  the  signals  made  by  chamois,  or 
the  information  imparted  by  the  antennse  of  ants. 
Henry  Drummond  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  "  Any 
means  by  which  information  is  conveyed  from  one 
mind  to  another,  is  language."  2  That  is  entirely  erro- 
neous. The  entire  chapter  on  sign  language,  interest- 
ing as  it  is,  must  be  treated  quite  differently  by  the 

1  See  the  author's  preface  to  his  English  translation  (second  edi- 
tion) of  Kant's  Critic  of  Pure  Reason,  p.  xxviii,  to  which  we 
now  add  the  prophetic  words  of  Shelley,  in  his  Prometheus  Un- 
bound (II,  4)  :  — 

"  He  gave  man  speech,  and  speech  created  thought, 
Which  is  the  measure  of  the  Universe." 

2  Ascent  of  Man,  1894,  p.  200. 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  131 

philologist,  compared  with  the  ethnologist.  When 
the  sign  is  such  as  was  used  in  the  old  method  of 
telegraphing,  and  meant  a  real  word,  or,  as  in  modern 
electric  telegraphy,  even  a  letter,  this  is  really  speak- 
ing by  signs;  and  so  is  the  finger  language  of  the 
deaf  and  dumb.  But  when  I  threaten  my  opponent 
with  my  fist,  or  strike  him  in  the  face,  when  I  laugh, 
cry,  sob,  sigh,  I  certainly  do  not  speak,  although  I 
do  make  a  communication,  the  meaning  of  which  can- 
not be  doubted.  Not  every  communication,  therefore, 
is  language,  nor  does  every  act  of  speaking  aim  at  a 
communication.  There  are  philologists  who  maintain 
that  the  first  words  were  merely  a  clearing  of  the 
ideas,  a  sort  of  talking  to  oneself.  This  may  have 
been  so  or  not,  at  any  rate  it  appears  to  me  that  in 
such  primitive  times,  practical  ends  deserve  the  first 
consideration.  No  one  can  distinguish  the  difference 
in  the  stages  of  mental  development,  between  wiping 
the  perspiration  from  the  brow  after  work,  which  sig- 
nifies and  communicates  to  every  observer,  "It  is 
warm  "  or  "  I  am  tired,"  and  the  man  who  can  actually 
say,  "  It  is  warm,"  "  I  am  tired."  Thousands,  millions 
of  years  may  lie  between  these  two  steps.  We  do 
not  know,  and  to  attempt  to  fix  periods  of  time 
where  the  means  are  lacking,  is  like  pouring  water 
into  the  Danaids'  sieves. 

Just  consider  what  effort  was  required  to  enable 
an  Aryan  man  to  say,  "  It  is  warm."  We  shall  say 
nothing  of  "  it " ;  it  may  be  a  simple  demonstrative 
stem,  which  needed  little  for  its  formation.  But 


132  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

before  this  "  i-t "  or  "  id  "  could  become  an  impersonal 
"  it,"  long-continued  abstraction,  or,  if  you  prefer,  long- 
continued  polishing,  was  required.  Take  the  word  is. 
Whence  comes  such  a  verbal  form,  Sanskrit  as-ti,  Greek 
eV™,  Latin  est  ?  Was  the  abstract  "  to  be  "  onomatopo- 
etically  imitated  ?  Often,  of  course,  we  cannot  answer 
such  questions  at  all.  In  this  case,  however,  it  is  pos- 
sible. The  root  as  in  asti,  that  we  now  translate  as 
is,  means  as  we  see  from  as-u,  breath,  originally  to 
breathe.  Whoever  likes  may  see  in  as,  to  breathe, 
an  imitation  of  hissing  breath.  We  neither  gain 
or  lose  anything  by  this;  for  the  critical  step 
always  remains  to  be  taken  from  a  single  imitation  of 
a  single  act,  to  the  comprehension  of  many  such  acts, 
at  various  places,  and  at  various  times,  as  one  and 
the  same,  which  is  called  abstraction  or  the  forming 
of  a  concept. 

This  may  appear  to  be  a  very  small  step,  just  as 
the  first  slight  deviation  in  a  railroad  track  is  scarcely 
a  finger's  breadth,  but  in  time  changes  the  course  of 
the  train  to  an  entirely  different  part  of  the  world. 
The  formation  of  an  idea,  such  as  to  be,  or  to  be- 
come, or  to  take  a  still  simpler  one,  such  as  four  or 
eight,  appears  to  us  to  be  a  very  small  matter,  and 
yet  it  is  this  very  small  matter  that  distinguishes 
man  from  the  animal,  that  pushed  man  forward  and 
left  the  animal  behind  on  his  old  track.  Nay,  more, 
this  "  concept "  has  caused  much  shaking  of  the  head 
among  philosophers  of  all  times.  That  one  and  one 
are  two,  two  and  two,  four,  four  and  four,  eight, 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  133 

eight  and  eight,  sixteen,  etc.,  appears  to  be  so  very 
easy,  that  we  do  not  understand  how  such  things  can 
constitute  an  eternally  intended  distinction  between 
man  and  animal.  I  have  myself  seen  an  ape  so  well 
trained  that  as  the  word  "seven  "  was  spoken,  he  picked 
up  seven  straws.  But  what  is  such  child's  play  in  com- 
parison with  the  first  formation  of  the  idea  of  seven  ? 
Do  you  not  see  that  the  formation  of  such  an  abstract 
idea,  isolating  mere  quantity  apart  from  all  qualities, 
requires  a  power  of  abstraction  such  as  has  never 
been  displayed  by  an  animal?  If  there  were  any 
languages  now  that  actually  had  no  word  for  seven, 
it  would  be  a  valuable  confirmation  of  this  view.  I 
doubt  only,  whether  the  speakers  of  such  languages 
could  not  call  composition  to  their  aid,  and  attain  the 
idea  of  seven  by  two,  two,  two,  plus  one.  We  still 
know  too  little  of  these  languages  and  of  those  who 
speak  them.  Of  what  takes  place  in  animals  we 
know  absolutely  nothing,  and  nowhere  would  a  dose 
of  agnosticism  be  more  useful  than  here.  Sense-im- 
pressions an  animal  certainly  has ;  whether  quite  the 
same  as  man  must  remain  uncertain.  And  sense- 
impressions  enable  an  animal  to  accomplish  much, 
especially  in  the  realm  of  feeling  ;  but  language  — 
never. 

This  fact,  as  a  bare  undeniable  fact,  should  have 
startled  the  Darwinians,  even  as  it  startled  the  vener- 
able Darwin,  when  I  simply  set  the  facts  before  him, 
and  he  immediately  drew  the  necessary  consequences. 
Of  any  danger  there  could  be  no  fear.  The  facts  are 


134  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

there  and  show  us  the  right  path.  And  it  is  not  only 
simple  facts,  but  the  consequences  of  preexisting  con- 
ditions which  render  every  so-called  transition  from 
animal  to  man  absolutely  unthinkable.  Language  — 
as  ethnologists  should  have  learned  —  has  neither 
originated  from  artificial  signs,  nor  from  imitation  of 
sounds.  That  we  can  communicate  with  signs  with- 
out saying  a  word,  that  we  even  now  use  signs  in  our 
speech,  is  best  learned  in  southern  races,  and  in  such 
pantomimes  as  L*  enfant  prodigue.  We  have  long 
known  that  imitations  of  sound  exist  in  greater  or 
lesser  numbers  in  every  language,  and  how  far  they 
can  reach  has  probably  never  been  shown  in  such 
detail  as  by  myself.1  But  that  our  Aryan  tongues,  and 
also  the  Semitic,  and  all  others  that  have  been  studied 
scientifically,  originated  from  roots,  is  now  generally 
known  and  recognised.  That  these  roots  may  in 
remote  times  have  contained  an  element  of  imitation, 
we  may  readily  concede,  for  it  is  really  self-evident ; 
only  we  should  not  from  the  beginning  bar  our  way 
by  conceiving  them  as  mere  imitations  of  sound.  If 
this  were  so,  the  problem  of  language  would  long 
since  have  been  solved,  and  the  first  formation  of 
ideas  would  require  no  further  reflection.  It  must 
be  conceded  on  the  other  side  that  the  origin  of  roots 
still  contains  much  that  is  obscure,  and  that  even 
Noire*'s  clamor  concomitant  does  not  explain  every 
case.  Only  it  is  firmly  established  that  a  scientific 
analysis  of  language  leaves  a  certain  number  of  roots 
1  Science  of  Language,  1891,  p.  499. 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  135 

which  are  not  mere  sound-imitations,  such  as  "  bow 
wow,"  or  "moo  moo."  There  are  people  who  have 
taken  much  pains  to  discover  whether  the  roots  ever 
had  an  independent  existence,  or  if  they  have  merely 
been  scientifically  abstracted,  or  shelled  out  of  the 
words  in  which  they  occur.  These  are  vain  ques- 
tions, for  we  can  never  of  course  come  at  the  matter 
historically,  and  the  attempt  to  prove  the  necessity  of 
the  one  or  the  other  view  is  a  useless  undertaking. 
It  appears  to  be  the  most  reasonable  plan  to  assume 
for  the  Aryan  languages  a  period  that  approaches  the 
Chinese,  in  which  roots  had  the  same  sound  and  the 
same  form  as  the  corresponding  noun,  adjective,  and 
verb.  Even  in  Sanskrit  roots  appear  at  times  still 
unchanged,  although  it  is  quite  right  that  as  soon  as 
they  take  on  grammatical  functions,  they  should  no 
longer  be  called  roots.  Much  may  be  said  in  favour 
of  both  views,  without  arriving  one  step  nearer  our 
goal.  If  we  now  only  remember  that  the  whole  San- 
skrit language  has  been  reduced  to  121  primitive 
ideas,  and  that  the  roots  denoting  these  (which 
are  of  course  much  more  numerous)  are  not  imita- 
tions of  sound  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  but 
sounds  about  whose  origin  we  may  say  much  but  can 
prove  little,  we  have  at  least  a  irov  <rr<y  for  our 
researches.  I  myself,  like  my  deceased  friend  Noire*, 
have  looked  upon  roots  as  clamor  concomitant,  that  is, 
not  as  sound-imitations,  but  as  actual  sounds,  uttered 
by  men  in  common  occupations,  and  to  be  heard  even 
now.  Why,  however,  the  Aryans  used  and  retained 


136  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

ad  for  eat,  tan  for  stretch,  mar  for  rub,  as  for  breathe, 
sta  for  stand,  ga  for  go,  no  human  thought  can  find 
out ;  we  must  be  content  with  the  fact  that  it  was  so, 
and  that  a  certain  number  of  such  roots  —  of  course 
much  greater  than  the  121  ideas  expressed  by  them 
—  constitute  the  kernels  from  which  has  sprouted 
the  entire  flora  of  the  Indian  mind. 

If  we  now  return  to  our  is,  —  Sanskrit  as-ti, 
Greek  ecm,  Latin  est,  —  we  see  that  it  originally  meant 
"to  breathe  out."  This  blowing  or  breathing  was 
then  used  for  "  life,"  as  in  as-u,  breath  of  life,  and 
from  life  it  lost  its  content  until  it  could  be  applied 
to  everything  existing,  and  meant  nothing  more  than 
the  abstract  "  to  be."  There  are  languages  that  pos- 
sess no  such  pale  word  as  "  be  "  and  could  not  form 
such  a  sentence  as  "  It  is  warm."  The  auxiliary  verb 
"  to  have  "  is  also  lacking  in  many  languages,  espe- 
cially the  ancient,  such  as  Sanskrit,  Greek,  and  even 
classical  Latin.  If  the  words  failed,  the  ideas  failed 
as  well,  and  such  languages  had  to  try  and  fulfil  their 
requirements  in  other  ways.  If  there  was  no  such 
word  as  "  be,"  "  stand  "  was  employed ;  where  there 
was  no  word  for  "  have,"  then  "  hold,"  tenere,  would 
render  the  same,  or  at  least  similar  service.  But 
this  implied  not  only  different  speech,  but  different 
thought. 

But  here  I  should  like  to  call  attention  to  the  long 
process  through  which  a  language  must  pass,  before 
it  could  reduce  "  breathe  "  to  "  be  "  and  form  such  a 
sentence  as  "It  is  warm."  Even  an  animal  feels 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  137 

warmth,  and  can  in  various  ways  make  known  if  it 
is  overheated.  But  in  all  this  it  is  only  a  question 
of  feelings,  not  to  ideas,  and  still  less  of  language. 
Let  us  consider  "  warm."  Of  course  "  warm  "  may 
represent  a  mere  feeling,  and  then  a  simple  panting 
would  suffice  to  express  it.  That  is  communication, 
but  not  language.  To  think  a  word  like  warm,  a  root 
and  an  idea  are  necessaiy.  Probably,  and  in  spite  of 
a  few  phonetic  difficulties,  the  root  was  in  this  case 
ghar  (in  gharmd,  0e/o//,o?),  and  this  meant  at  first  to  be 
bright,  to  glitter,  to  shine,  then  to  burn,  to  heat, 
to  be  warm ;  that  is  to  say,  the  observing  mind  of 
man  was  able  to  abstract  brightness  from  the  sense- 
impressions  produced  by  sun,  fire,  gold,  and  many 
other  objects,  and,  letting  everything  else  drop,  to 
reach  the  idea  of  shining,  then  of  being  warm. 
These  ideas,  of  course,  do  not  exist  on  their  own 
account  anywhere  in  the  world;  they  must  be  and 
have  been  constructed  by  man  alone,  never  by  an 
animal.  Why  1  Because  an  animal  does  not  possess 
what  man  possesses :  the  faculty  of  grasping  the 
many  as  one,  so  as  to  form  an  idea  and  a  word. 
Light  or  lighting,  warmth  or  warming,  exist  nowhere 
in  the  world,  and  are  nowhere  given  in  sentient 
experience.  Every  object  of  sense  exists  individu- 
ally, and  is  perceived  as  such  individually,  such  as 
the  sun,  a  torch,  a  stove ;  but  heat  in  general,  like 
everything  general,  is  the  product  of  our  thought ; 
its  name  is  made  by  us,  and  is  not  given  us. 

Of  all  this,  of  course,  when  we  learn  to  speak  as 


138  THE   SILESIAN  HOBSEHERD 

children,  we  have  no  suspicion.  We  learn  the  lan- 
guage made  by  others  who  came  before  us,  and  pro- 
ceed from  words  to  ideas,  not  from  ideas  to  words. 
Whether  the  relation  between  ideas  and  words  was  a 
succession,  it  is  hard  to  say,  because  no  idea  exists 
without  a  word,  any  more  than  a  word  without  an 
idea.  Word  and  idea  exist  through  each  other,  be- 
side each  other,  with  each  other ;  they  are  inseparable. 
We  could  as  easily  try  to  speak  without  thinking,  as 
to  think  without  speaking.  It  is  at  first  difficult  to 
grasp  this.  We  are  so  accustomed  to  think  silently, 
before  speaking  aloud,  that  we  actually  believe  that 
the  same  is  true,  even  of  the  first  formation  of  ideas 
and  words.  Our  so-called  thinking  before  speaking, 
however,  refers  simply  to  reflection,  or  deliberation. 
It  is  something  quite  different,  and  occurs  only  with 
the  aid  of  silent  words  that  are  in  us,  even  if  they 
are  not  uttered.  Every  person,  particularly  in  his 
youth,  believes  that  he  cherishes  within  himself  in- 
expressible feelings,  or  even  thoughts.  These  are 
chiefly  obscure  feelings,  and  the  expression  of  feel- 
ings has  always  been  the  most  difficult  task  to  be 
performed  by  language,  because  they  must  first  pass 
through  a  phase  of  conception.  If,  however,  they  are 
actually  ideas,  they  are  such  as  have  an  old  expres- 
sion that  is  felt  to  be  inconvenient,  or  inadequate, 
and  must  be  replaced  by  a  new  one.  We  cannot  do 
enough  to  rid  ourselves  of  the  old  error,  that  thought 
is  possible  without  words.  We  can,  of  course,  repeat 
words  without  meaning;  but  that  is  not  speaking, 


LANGUAGE  AND   MIND  139 

only  making  a  noise.  If  any  one,  however,  tells  us 
that  he  can  think  quite  well  without  words,  let  this 
silent  thinker  be  suddenly  interrupted,  ask  him  of 
what  he  has  thought  in  silence,  and  he  will  have 
to  admit  that  it  was  of  a  dog,  a  horse,  or  a  man  — 
in  short,  of  something  that  has  a  name.  He  need 
not  utter  these  words  —  that  has  never  been  main- 
tained, but  he  must  have  the  ideas  and  their  signs, 
otherwise  there  are  not,  and  there  cannot  be  for  him, 
either  ideas  or  things.  How  often  we  see  children 
move  their  lips  while  they  are  thinking,  that  is, 
speaking  without  articulation.  We  can,  of  course, 
in  case  of  necessity,  use  other  signs ;  we  can  hold  a 
dog  on  high  and  show  him,  but  if  we  ask  what  is 
shown,  we  shall  find  that  the  actual  dog  is  only  a 
substitute  for  the  abstract  word  "dog,"  not  the  re- 
verse, for  a  dog  that  is  neither  a  spaniel,  poodle, 
dachshund,  etc.,  is  nowhere  to  be  found,  in  rerum 
natum,  or  in  domestic  life.  These  things,  that 
give  us  so  much  trouble,  were  often  quite  clear 
to  the  ancient  Hindus,  for  their  usual  word  for 
"thing"  is  paddrtha;  that  is,  meaning  or  purpose 
of  the  word.  But  men  persist  that  they  are  able 
to  think  without  speaking  aloud,  or  in  silence. 
They  persist  that  thought  comes  first,  and  then 
speech;  they  persist  that  they  can  speak  without 
thinking,  —  and  that  is  often  quite  true,  —  and  that 
they  can  also  think  without  speaking,  which  must 
first  be  proved.  Consider  only  what  is  necessary  to 
form  so  simple  a  word  as  "white."  The  idea  of 


140  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

white  must  be  formed  at  the  same  time,  and  this 
can  only  be  done  by  dropping  everything  but  the 
colour  from  the  sense-perceptions  of  such  things  as 
snow,  snowdrop,  cloud,  chalk,  or  sugar,  then  marking 
this  colour,  and,  by  means  of  a  sign  (in  this  case  a 
vocal  one),  elevating  it  to  a  comprehensible  idea, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  a  word.  How  this  vocal 
token  originates  it  is  often  difficult,  often  quite  im- 
possible, to  say.  The  simplest  mode  is,  for  example, 
if  there  be  a  word  for  snow,  to  take  this  and  to 
generalise  it,  and  then  to  call  sugar,  for  instance, 
snow,  or  snowy,  or  snow-white.  But  the  prior  ques- 
tion, how  snow  was  named,  only  recedes  for  a  while, 
and  must  of  course  be  answered  for  itself.  Given 
a  word  for  snow,  it  can  easily  be  generalised.  But 
how  did  we  name  snow  ?  I  believe  that  snow,  which 
forms  into  balls  in  melting  and  coheres,  was  named 
nix  nivis,  from  a  root  snigh  or  8nu,  denoting  every- 
thing which  melted  and  yet  stuck  together  or  cohered. 
But  these  are  mere  possibilities  that  may  be  true  or 
false ;  yet  their  truth  or  falsity  leave  undisturbed  the 
fundamental  truth,  that  each  individual  perception,  as, 
for  example,  this  snow  or  this  ice,  first  had  to  be 
brought  under  a  general  conception,  before  it  could 
be  clearly  marked,  or  elevated  to  a  word.  In  such  a 
case  men  formed,  by  living  and  working  together,  a 
general  conception  and  a  root,  for  an  oft-repeated 
action,  such  as  forming  into  balls ;  and  under  this 
general  concept  they  then  conceived  an  individual 
impression  like  snow ;  that  is,  that  which  is  formed 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  141 

into  a  ball,  so  that  they  had  the  sign,  and  with  the 
sign  the  concept  of  snow,  both  inseparable  in  reality, 
distinguishable  as  they  are  in  their  origin.  Having 
this,  they  could  extend  the  concept  in  the  vocal  sign 
for  snow,  and  speak  of  snowy  things,  just  as  they 
spoke  of  rosy  cheeks.  Only  we  must  not  imagine 
that  it  will  ever  be  possible  to  make  the  origin  of 
root  sounds  perfectly  clear.  This  goes  back  to  times 
that  are  entirely  withdrawn  from  our  observation.  It 
goes  back  to  times  in  which  the  first  general  ideas 
were  formed,  and  thereby  the  first  steps  were  taken 
in  the  development  of  the  human  mind.  How  is  it 
possible  that  any  recollection  should  have  remained 
of  such  early  times,  or  even  any  understanding  of 
these  mental  processes  ?  We  may  settle  many  things, 
but  in  the  end  nothing  is  left  but  to  say :  It  is  so,  and 
remains  so,  whether  we  can  explain  it  or  not.  The 
first  general  concept  may  no  doubt  have  been,  as 
Noire  affirmed,  an  often  repeated  action,  such  as 
striking,  going,  rubbing,  chewing  —  acts  that  spon- 
taneously present  themselves  to  consciousness,  as 
manifold  and  yet  single,  that  is,  as  continually 
repeated,  in  which  the  mind  consequently  found  the 
first  natural  stimulus  to  the  formation  of  concepts. 
Why,  however,  rub  was  denoted  by  mar,  eat  by  ad, 
go  by  ga,  strike  by  tud,  we  may  perhaps  apprehend 
by  feeling,  but  we  could  not  account  for  or  even 
conceive  it.  Here  we  must  be  content  with  the  facts, 
especially  as  in  other  families  of  languages  we  find 
entirely  different  vocal  signs.  No  doubt  there  was  a 


142  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

reason  for  all  of  them ;  but  this  reason,  even  if  we 
could  prove  it  historically,  would  always  remain  in- 
comprehensible to  us,  and  only  as  fact  would  it  have 
any  significance  for  science. 

At  any  rate,  we  can  now  understand  in  what  man- 
ner language  offers  us  really  historical  documents  of 
the  oldest  stages  which  we  can  reach  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  human  mind.  I  say,  "  which  we  can 
reach,"  for  what  lies  beyond  language  does  not  ex- 
ist for  us.  Nothing  remains  of  the  history  of  homo 
alalus.  But  every  word  represents  a  deed,  an  acqui- 
sition of  the  mind.  If  we  take  such  a  word  as  the 
Vedic  deva,  there  may  have  been  many  older  words 
for  god,  but  let  us  not  imagine  that  a  fetish  or  totem, 
whose  etymology  is  or  should  be  known,  belongs  to 
them.  But  at  all  events  we  know  from  deva  and 
the  Latin  deus,  that  even  before  the  Aryan  separa- 
tion a  root  dyu  or  div  had  been  formed,  as  well  as 
the  conception  "  shine."  If  this  root  was  first  used 
"actively  for  the  act  of  shedding  light,  of  striking  a 
spark;  of  shining,  it  was  a  step  farther  to  transfer 
this  originally  active  root  to  the  image  which  the 
sky  produces  in  us,  and  to  call  it  a  "  shiner,"  dyu 
(nom.  dyaus),  and  then  with  a  new  upward  tendency 
to  call  all  bright  and  shining  beings,  deva,,  deus. 
Man  sjtarted,  therefore,  from  a  generalisation,  or  an 
idea,  and  then  under  this  idea  grouped  other  single 
presentations,  such  as  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  from  which 
"shining"  had  been  withdrawn,  or  abstracted,  and 
thus  obtained  as  a  mental  acquisition  a  sign  for  the 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  143 

idea  "  shine,"  and  further  formations  such  as  Dyaus 
(shiner)  and  deva  (shining).  Now  observe  how 
Dyaus,  as  "  shiner,"  at  the  same  time  assumed  the  sig- 
nificance of  an  otherwise  unknown  agent  or  author  of 
light,  and  developed  into  the  ancient  Dyaus,  into  Zeus 
and  Jove  ;  that  is,  into  the  oldest  personal  God  of 
the  still  united  Aryans.  These  are  the  true  stages 
of  the  development  of  the  human  mind,  which  are 
susceptible  of  documentary  proof  in  the  archives  of 
language. 

All  this  occurred,  of  course,  on  exclusively  Aryan 
ground,  while  the  Semitic  and  other  branches  went 
their  own  way  in  the  formation  of  ideas,  and  of  sounds 
for  their  ideas.  Physiologically  all  these  branches 
may  have  one  and  the  same  origin,  but  linguistically 
they  have  various  beginnings,  and  have  not,  at  least 
as  far  as  scientific  proof  is  possible,  sprung  from  one 
and  the  same  source.  The  common  origin  of  all  lan- 
guages is  not  impossible,  but  it  is  and  remains  unde- 
monstrable,  and  to  science  that  is  enough,  sapienti  sat. 
If  we  analyse  the  Semitic  and  other  languages,  we 
shall  find  in  them  as  many  ancient  documents  of  the 
development  of  the  human  mind  as  in  the  Aryan. 
And  just  as  we  can  clearly  and  plainly  trace  back  the 
French  dieu,  the  Latin  deus,  the  Sanskrit  deva,  divine, 
to  the  physical  idea  div,  "shine,"  so  we  ca.n  with 
thousands  of  other  words,  of  which  each  indicates 
an  act  of  will,  and  each  gives  us  an  insight  into  the 
development  of  our  mind.  Whether  the  Aryans 
were  in  possession  of  other  ideas  and  sounds  for 


144  THE   SILESIAN  HOKSEHERD 

"  shine,"  etc.,  before  the  formation  of  div,  Dyaus,  and 
deva,  must  be  left  uncertain ;  at  all  events  we  see  how 
naturally  the  first  consciousness  of  God  developed 
in  them,  how  the  idea  conditioned  the  language,  and 
the  language  the  idea,  and  both  originated  and  con- 
tinued inseparable  one  from  the  other. 

If  we  take  any  root  of  the  Aryan  language,  we 
shall  be  astonished  at  the  enormous  number  of  its 
derivatives  and  the  shades  in  their  meaning.  Here 
we  see  very  plainly  how  thought  has  climbed  forward 
upon  words.  We  find,  for  instance,  in  the  list  of 
Sanskrit  roots,  the  root  bhar  with  the  simple  meaning 
to  bear.  This  we  see  plainly  in  bhardmi,  in  bibharmi, 
in  bibharti  (I  bear,  he  bears),  also  in  bhrfras  or 
bhartdr  (a  bearer),  and  bhdrds  (load)  and  bhtfrman 
and  bharti  (bearing),  etc. 

But  these  forms,  with  all  their  cases  and  persons 
and  tenses,  give  us  no  idea  of  the  fruitfulness  of  a 
root,  especially  if  we  follow  its  ramifications  in  the 
cognate  languages.  In  Greek  we  have  </>ep<w,  in  Latin 
fero,  in  Gothic  bairan^  in  English  to  bear.  The  prin- 
cipal meanings  which  this  root  assumes  are,  to  carry, 
carry  hither,  carry  away,  carry  in,  to  support,  to  main- 
tain, to  bring  forth,  etc.  We  find  simple  derivatives 
such  as  the  German  Balire,  English  Her  (French 
biere,  borrowed),  and  also  (freperpov  and  feretrum, 
as  well  as  ferculum  (a  litter).  On  the  other  hand 
there  is  (frdperpov  (a  porter's  wages),  and  <t>aperpa 
(quiver).  And  barrow  in  wheel-barrow  has  the 
same  origin.  Burden  is  that  which  is  borne, 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  145 

then  a  load,  as,  for  instance,  the  burden  of  years. 
A  step  farther  takes  us  to  fapros  (bearable) 
and  afapros  (unbearable).  We  also  find  in  Greek 
8uo-<£o/>o9,  which  corresponds  exactly  to  the  Sanskrit 
durbhara,  with  the  meaning  "heavy  to  bear."  In 
Latin,  however,  fertus  signifies  fruitful,  like  fertilis, 
ferax.  We  say,  "The  earth  bears"  (tragt),  and 
Gretreide  (grain)  meant  originally  that  borne  (getra- 
geri)  by  the  earth  (hence  in  Middle  High  German 
Cretragede).  So  we  have  also  far,  the  oldest  corn 
grown  by  the  Romans,  derived  from  fero,  and  along 
with  it  farina  (flour),  if  it  stands  for  farrina.  Far 
may  originally,  however,  have  also  meant  food,  main- 
tenance, and  the  Anglo-Saxon  bere,  the  English  bar- 
ley, are  again  related  to  it.  Of  course  we  have  the 
same  root  in  derivatives,  such  as  lucifer,  frugifer, 
in  Greek  /cap7ro<f)dpo<i  or  fapetcapTros.  In  German 
it  becomes  a  mere  suffix,  as  fruchtbar,  dankbar, 
scheinbar,  urbar.  Like  </>opo9,  <f>opd  means  also  what 
is  carried  or  brought,  hence  specially  tribute,  duty, 
tax.  To  bear  a  child  was  used  in  the  sense  of  to 
bring  forth,  and  from  this  we  have  many  derivatives 
such  as  birth,  born,  and  Gothic  berusjos  (parents), 
parentes  and  barn  (the  child),  like  the  Greek  <£e/3/za. 
If  Sfypos  (carriage)  stands  for  Sufrdpos,  it  means 
originally  a  carriage  for  two  persons,  just  as  apfopevs, 
Latin  amphora,  was  a  vessel  with  two  handles.  We 
should  scarcely  believe  that  the  same  root  is  con- 
cealed in  the  German  Zuber  (tub)  and  Eimer 
(bucket).  But  Zuber  was  originally  Zwiber,  a  vessel 


146  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

with  two  handles,  and  Eimer  was  Einber,  a  bucket 
with  one  bail.  We  may  compare  manubrium  (handle) 
and  derivatives  like  candelebrum,  lugubris,  as  well  as 
luctifer.  If  bhartri  meant  bearer  and  then  husband, 
as  bhdrya  meant  wife,  i.e.  the  one  to  be  maintained, 
we  are  probably  justified  in  seeing  in  bhrdtar  (brother) 
the  original  meaning  of  helper,  protector.  Although 
the  wife  is  to  be  maintained  and  sustained,  she, 
too,  brings  something  to  the  household,  and  that  is 
the  (frepvrj  (dowry).  The  Middle  Latin  expression 
paraphernalia  is  properly  dowry,  though  it  has  now 
assumed  an  entirely  different  meaning.  "To  be 
carried  "  easily  takes  the  meaning  of  being  torn  away, 
t'emporteTi  and  this  we  find  in  the  Greek  represented 
by  fyepecrOai,  in  the  Sanskrit  in  the  secondary  form 
bhur  (to  hasten),  yielding  bhuranyH^  bhtirni  (hasty, 
violent),  and  other  derivatives. 

We  have  already  seen  how  $0/309  and  cf>opd  signi- 
fied that  which  is  contributed,  then  duty,  tribute. 
This  is  the  Gothic  gabaur,  that  is,  geliihr  (due),  and 
consequently  all  things  that  are  proper  or  becoming. 

Offerre  (bring  before)  leads  to  Opfer  (sacrifice) 
and  to  the  simpler  offrir,  as  suffer  re  to  souffrir 
(suffer). 

It  has  been  usual  to  derive  Fors,  Fortuna,  from 
ferre^1  the  goddess  who  brings,  although  she  takes 
away  as  well.  The  ancients  had  no  doubts  of  this 
derivation,  and  TO  fa'pov  (fate)  and  TO  fapopevov 
(chance)  seem  to  substantiate  it.  But  the  old 
1  Cf.  Biographies  of  Words,  by  M.  M.,  1888. 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  147 

divine  character  of  Fors,  Fortuna  (as  related  to 
Harit),  points  to  other  sources,  which  had  already 
entirely  vanished  from  the  consciousness  of  the 
ancients.  Yet  the  expression,  es  trdgt  sich  zu  (it 
happens),  the  old  gaburjan,  Anglo-Saxon  gebyrian, 
and  kipuri  (zufallig,  casual),  must  be  taken  into 
account,  and  forms  such  as  forte,  forsan,  fortassis 
(forte  an  si  vis),  fortuitus,  are  very  remote  from  their 
supposed  mythological  meaning.  If  ferre  were  the 
root,  we  should  have  further  proof  of  the  immeasur- 
able fertility  to  which  we  owe  such  words  as  fortune 
and  misfortune. 

It  would  lead  us  too  far  if  we  tried  to  collect  all 
the  meanings  which  our  roots  had  in  the  various 
ancient  Aryan  tongues  in  combination  with  preposi- 
tions. It  must  suffice  to  select  a  small  number 
from  a  modern  language  such  as  French,  which  give 
us  an  idea  of  the  endless  modifications  to  which  every 
root  is  more  or  less  adapted.  Thus  from  circumferre 
we  have  circonference,  also  periplierie,  from  conferre 
conference  and  also  confortable,  from  deferre  deference, 
from  differre  difference,  from  praeferre  preference, 
from  proferre  prof6rer,  from  referre  reference,  each 
word  again  with  numerous  offshoots.  We  are  not  at 
the  end  yet,  and  still  less  when  we  keep  in  view  also 
the  parallel  formations  tuli  and  latum,  or  portare. 
We  then  see  what  a  root  in  this  language  has  to 
signify,  whether  considered  as  a  concrete  word  or  as 
a  mere  abstraction.  This  is  prolific  of  contention 
and  has  been  much  disputed;  the  main  thing  is  to 


148  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

know  the  facts.  From  these  we  may  infer  how  in  all 
this  multiplicity  the  unity  of  the  root  element  can  be 
best  explained. 

I  do  not  say  that  all  ideas  can  be  so  clearly  traced 
to  their  origin  as  in  this  root.  In  some  the  interme- 
diate forms  have  been  lost,  and  the  etymologies  be- 
come uncertain,  often  impossible.  But  the  result  on 
the  whole  remains  the  same.  Wherever  we  can  see 
clearly,  we  see  that  what  we  call  mind  and  thought 
consists  in  this,  that  man  has  the  power  not  only  to 
receive  presentations  like  an  animal,  but  to  discover 
something  general  in  them.  This  element  he  can 
eliminate  and  fix  by  means  of  vocal  signs ;  and  he  can 
further  classify  single  presentations  under  the  same  gen- 
eral concepts,  and  mark  them  by  the  same  vocal  signs. 
What  we  call  derivative  forms,  such  as  deva  besides 
div,  are  originally  varieties  in  the  formation  of  words, 
that  in  time  proved  useful,  and  through  repeated  em- 
ployment obtained  their  special  application.  Often, 
too,  there  are  real  compounds,  just  as  the  German  bar 
in  fruchtbar,  furchtbar,  etc.,  was  originally  the  same 
word  that  we  have  in  Bahre  (bier),  bat  was  very  dif- 
ferent from  bar  in  Nachbar  (neighbour),  which  in  spite 
of  the  similarity  in  sound  comes  from  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent root,  seen  in  bauen  (build),  bebauen  (cultivate), 
bauer  (peasant),  and  in  the  English  neighbour. 

If  we  have  the  ideas  and  the  words,  the  process  of 
thought,  as  Hobbes  has  taught  us,  is  nothing  but  an 
addition  and  subtraction  of  ideas.  We  add  when  we 
say,  A  is  B ;  when  we  say,  for  instance,  man,  or  Cams, 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  149 

is  mortal,  adding  Caius,  or  man,  to  all  that  we  call 
mortal ;  we  subtract  when  we  say,  A  is  not  B ;  that 
is,  when  we  abstract  Enoch  from  all  that  we  call  mor- 
tal. Everything  that  man  has  ever  thought,  humili- 
ating as  it  may  sound,  consists  in  these  two  operations ; 
just  as  the  most  abstruse  operations  of  mathematics 
go  back  in  the  end  to  addition  and  subtraction.  To 
what  else  could  they  go  back  ?  Whether  these  men- 
tal operations  are  true  or  false,  is  another  question, 
with  which  the  method  of  the  thinker  has  nothing  to 
do;  any  more  than  formal  logic  inquires  whether  all 
men  are  mortal,  but  only  infers  on  the  basis  of  these 
premises  that  Caius,  because  he  is  a  man,  is  also  mortal. 
We  see,  therefore,  how  language  and  thought  go 
hand  in  hand ;  where  there  is  as  yet  no  word,  there  is 
not  yet  an  idea.  The  thinking  capacity  of  the  mind 
has  its  source  in  language,  lives  in  language,  and  de- 
velops continuously  in  language.  The  human  mind 
is  human  language,  and  as  animals  possess  no  lan- 
guage, they  do  not  ipso  facto  possess  what  philosophers 
understand  by  mind.  We  need  not  for  this  reason 
ascribe  any  special  faculty  to  men.  Speech  and 
thought  are  only  a  wider  development  of  the  faculty 
of  presentation  such  as  an  animal  may  have ;  but  in  an 
animal  it  never  develops  any  farther,  for  an  animal 
has  no  general  ideas;  it  remains  at  the  individual, 
and  never  attains  unity  in  plurality.  It  knows,  as 
Plato  would  say,  a  horse,  but  not  "horsedom."  If 
we  wish  to  say  that  the  perceiving  self  is  present  in 
animals  as  in  men,  there  is  no  objection,  though  in  all 


150  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

such  questions  relating  to  animals  we  are  always  grop- 
ing in  the  dark.  But  the  fact  remains  that  the  step, 
whether  small  or  vast,  that  leads  from  the  individual 
to  the  general,  from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract,  from 
perceiving  (that  is,  being  acted  upon)  to  conceiving, 
thinking,  speaking,  that  is,  to  acting,  is  for  the  animal 
impossible.  An  animal  might  speak,  but  it  cannot ;  a 
stone  might  grow,  but  it  cannot ;  a  tree  might  walk, 
but  it  cannot.  Why  not?  Because  there  are  natural 
boundaries  that  are  apparently  easy  to  pass,  and  yet 
impassable.  The  tree  grows  up  a  tree,  the  animal 
an  animal,  but  no  farther,  just  as  man  never  surpasses 
the  human,  and  therefore  can  never  think  except 
through  language,  which  often  is  very  imperfect. 

In  one  sense,  therefore,  the  Horseherd  is  quite  right. 
The  mind  is  a  development,  an  eternal,  ceaseless  de- 
velopment ;  but  when  he  calls  it  a  function  possessed 
by  all  living  organisms,  even  a  goose  and  a  chicken, 
he  goes  far  beyond  the  facts.  No  goose  speaks, 
although  it  cackles,  and  although  by  cackling  it  ap- 
prised the  Romans  of  the  important  fact  that  their 
Capitol  was  in  danger.  How  much  a  dog  could  tell 
us  if  he  could  speak!  As  if  this  capacity  or  inca- 
pacity is  not  as  much  the  result  of  intention  as  every 
other  capacity  and  incapacity  in  nature !  If  we  trans- 
late this  ability  byfacultas,  that  is  facilitas,  we  need 
not  for  that  reason  assume  in  man  a  faculty,  or  as  the 
Horseherd  calls  it,  a  phantom,  but  the  thing  remains 
the  same.  We  can  speak,  and  an  animal  cannot ;  we 
can  think,  and  an  animal  cannot. 


LANGUAGE  AND  MIND  151 

But  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  because  we  deny 
thought  and  speech  to  animals,  we  wish  to  degrade 
them.  Everything  that  has  been  told  us  of  the  in- 
genious tricks  of  animals,  even  the  most  incredible, 
we  shall  gladly  believe,  only  not  that  bos  locutus  e8t, 
or  that  an  actual  utterance  lies  hidden  in  the  bark  of  a 
dog.  A  man  who  sees  no  difference  between  language 
and  communication  will  of  course  continue  to  say 
that  a  dog  speaks,  and  explain  in  how  many  dialects 
he  barks,  when  he  is  hungry,  when  he  wants  to  go 
out  with  his  master,  when  he  hears  burglars  in  the 
house,  or  when  he  has  been  whipped  and  whines.  It 
would  be  more  natural  if  scientists  confined  themselves 
to  facts,  without  asking  for  reasons,  and  primarily  to 
the  great  fact  that  no  animal,  with  the  exception  of 
man,  speaks,  or  ever  has  spoken.  The  next  duty  of  / 
the  observer  is  to  ask:  Why  is  this?  There  is  no 
physical  impossibility.  A  parrot  can  imitate  all  words. 
There  must  therefore  be  a  non-physical  cause  why 
there  has  never  been  a  parrot  or  dog  language.  Is 
that  true  or  false?  And  if  we  now  call  that  non- 
physical  cause  mind,  or  still  better  the  Logos,  namely, 
the  gatherer  of  the  many  into  the  one,  comprehend- 
ing, conceiving,  is  our  argument  so  erroneous  if  we 
seek  the  distinction  between  man  and  animal  in  the 
Logos,  in  speech  and  thought,  or  in  mind  ?  This  mind 
is  no  ghost,  as  the  Horseherd  asserts,  nor  is  it  a  mere 
phantom  of  the  brain  as  is  imagined  by  so  many  scien- 
tists. It  is  something  real,  for  we  see  its  effects.  It 
is  born,  like  everything  that  belongs  to  our  ego,  of 


152  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHEKD 

the  self-conscious  Self,  which  alone  really  and  eter- 
nally exists  and  abides. 

So  far  I  hope  to  have  answered  the  second  objec- 
tion of  the  Horseherd  or  Horseherds,  that  the  mind 
is  a  function  possessed  also  by  a  goose  or  a  chicken. 
Mind  is  language,  and  language  is  mind,  the  one  the 
sine  qua  non  of  the  other,  and  so  far  no  goose  has  yet 
spoken,  but  only  cackled. 


THE  REASONABLENESS   OF  RELIGION 

THE  most  difficult  and  at  all  events  the  thorniest 
problem  that  was  presented  to  me  by  the  Horseherd 
still  remains  unanswered,  and  I  have  long  doubted 
whether  I  should  attempt  to  answer  it  in  so  popular 
a  periodical  as  the  Deutsche  Rundschau. 

There  are  so  many  things  that  have  been  so  long 
settled  among  scholars  that  they  are  scarcely  men- 
tioned, while  to  a  great  majority  of  even  well-informed 
people  they  are  still  enveloped  in  a  misty  gloom.  To 
this  class  belong  especially  the  so-called  articles  of 
faith.  We  must  not  forget  that  with  many,  even  with 
most  men,  faith  is  not  faith,  but  acquired  habit.  Why 
otherwise  should  the  son  of  a  Jew  be  a  Jew,  the  son 
of  a  Parsi  a  Parsi?  Moreover,  no  one  likes  to  be 
disturbed  in  his  old  habits.  There  are  questions,  too, 
on  which  mankind  as  it  is  now  constituted  will  never 
reach  a  common  understanding,  because  they  lie  out- 
side the  realm  of  science  or  the  knowable.  Concern- 
ing such  questions  it  is  well  to  waste  no  more  words. 
But  it  is  on  just  such  a  question,  namely,  the  true 
nature  of  revelation,  that  the  Horseherd  and  his 
companions  particularly  wish  to  know  my  views.  The 

153 


154  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

current  theory  of  revelation  is  their  greatest  stum- 
bling block,  and  they  continually  direct  their  princi- 
pal attack  against  this  ancient  stronghold.  On  the 
other  hand  there  is  nothing  so  convenient  as  this 
theory,  and  many  who  have  no  other  support  cling 
fast  to  this  anchor.  The  Bible  is  divine  revelation, 
say  they,  therefore  it  is  infallible  and  unassailable, 
and  that  settles  everything. 

Now  we  must,  above  all  things,  come  to  an  under- 
standing as  to  what  is  meant  by  revelation  before  we 
attribute  revelation  to  the  Bible.  There  are  not  many 
now  who  really  believe  that  an  angel  in  bodily  form 
descended  from  heaven  and  whispered  into  the  ear  of 
the  apostles,  in  rather  bad  Greek,  every  verse,  every 
word,  even  every  letter  of  our  Gospels.  When  Peter 
in  his  second  Epistle  (i.  18)  assures  us  that  he  heard 
a  voice  from  heaven,  that  is  a  fact  that  can  only  be 
confirmed,  or  invalidated,  by  witnesses.  But  when 
he  immediately  after  says  (i.  21)  that  "  holy  men  of 
God  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Spirit," 
he  presents  to  us  a  view  of  inspiration  that  is  easily 
intelligible,  the  possibility  or  truth  of  which  must 
yet  be  first  determined  by  psychologists.  If  it  be  con- 
ceded, however,  that  holy  men  may  partake  of  such 
an  inspiration,  even  then  it  is  plain  that  it  requires 
a  much  higher  inspiration  to  declare  others  to  be 
divinely  inspired  than  to  make  such  a  claim  for  one- 
self alone.  This  theory,  that  the  Gospels  are  inspired 
by  God,  and  therefore  are  infallible  and  unassailable, 
has  gained  more  and  more  currency  since  the  time 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF   RELIGION  155 

of  the  Reformation.  The  Bible  was  to  be  the  only 
authority  in  future  for  the  Christian  faith.  Pope  and 
ecclesiastical  tradition  were  cast  aside,  and  a  greater 
stress  was  consequently  laid  on  the  litera  scripta  of 
the  New  Testament.  This  naturally  led  to  a  very 
laborious  and  detailed  criticism  of  these  records,  which 
year  by  year  assumed  a  wider  scope,  and  was  finally 
absorbed  in  so  many  special  investigations  that  its 
original  purpose  of  establishing  the  authority  of  the 
Scriptures  of  the  New  Testament  seems  to  have  quite 
passed  out  of  sight.  These  critical  investigations  con- 
cerning the  manuscripts  of  the  New  Testament,  Codex 
Sinaiticus,  Alexandrimus,  and  Vaticanus,  down  to 
Number  269,  Bentley's  Q,  are  probably  of  less  inter- 
est to  the  Horseherd ;  they  are  known  to  those  who 
make  a  special  study  of  this  subject,  and  are  of  no 
interest  outside. 

If,  as  might  have  happened,  without  any  miracle, 
the  original  autograph  of  the  Gospels,  as  they  were 
written  by  the  apostles  or  some  one  else  with  their 
own  hands,  had  been  carefully  preserved  in  the  ar- 
chives of  the  first  popes,  our  professors  would  have 
been  spared  much  labour.  But  we  nowhere  read 
that  these  successors  and  heirs  of  Peter  showed  any 
special  solicitude  for  this  prime  duty  of  their  office, 
the  preservation  of  this  precious  jewel  of  their  treas- 
ure, the  New  Testament.  What  they  neglected, 
had  therefore  to  be  recovered  by  our  philologists. 
Just  as  those  who  wished  to  study  the  Peloponnesian 
war  resorted  to  the  manuscripts  of  Thucydides,  the 


156  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

Christian  scholars,  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
origins  of  Christianity,  betook  themselves  to  the  manu- 
scripts of  the  New  Testament.  And  as  the  manu- 
scripts of  Thucydides  vary  widely  from  one  another 
and  in  certain  passages  leave  us  quite  helpless,  so 
do  the  manuscripts  of  the  New  Testament.  Bentley 
speaks  of  thirty  thousand  varice  lectiones  in  the  New 
Testament;  but  since  his  time  their  number  must 
have  increased  fourfold.  The  manuscripts  of  the 
New  Testament  are  more  numerous  than  those  of 
any  classic.  Two  thousand  are  known  and  have 
been  described,  and  more  yet  may  lie  buried  in 
libraries.  Now  while  this  large  number  of  manu- 
scripts and  various  readings  have  given  the  philolo- 
gists of  the  New  Testament  greater  difficulties  than 
the  classical  philologist  encounters,  still  on  the  other 
hand  the  New  Testament  has  the  advantage  over  all 
classical  texts,  in  that  some  of  its  manuscripts  are 
much  older  than  those  of  the  majority  of  classical 
writers.  We  have,  for  instance,  no  complete  manu- 
scripts of  Homer  earlier  than  the  thirteenth  century, 
while  the  oldest  manuscripts  of  the  New  Testament 
descend  from  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries.  It  is  fre- 
quently said  that  all  these  things  are  of  no  impor- 
tance for  the  understanding  of  the  New  Testament, 
and  that  theologians  need  not  trouble  themselves 
about  them.  But  this  is  saying  too  much.  There 
are  varice  lectiones,  which  are  certainly  not  without 
importance  for  the  facts  and  the  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  in  which  the  last  word  belongs  not  to 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          157 

the  theologian,  but  to  the  philologist.  No  one  would 
say  that  it  makes  no  difference  if  Mark  xvi.  9-20 
is  omitted  or  not ;  no  one  would  declare  that  the 
authenticity  or  spuriousness  of  the  section  on  the 
adulteress  (John  vii.  53-viii.  11)  was  entirely  indif- 
ferent. When  we  consider  what  contention  there 
has  been  over  the  seventh  verse  of  the  fifth  chapter 
of  the  first  Epistle  of  John,  and  how  the  entire  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity  has  been  based  on  that  ("  For 
there  are  three  that  bear  record  in  heaven,  the  Father, 
the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost:  and  these  three  are 
one  "),  it  will  hardly  be  maintained  that  the  manu- 
scripts are  of  no  importance  for  Christian  dogma. 
Whether  in  the  first  Epistle  to  Timothy  iii.  16,  we 
read  OC  for  0C,  that  is,  0eo9,  is  also  not  quite  immate- 
rial. Still  I  admit  that  in  comparison  to  the  problems 
presented  to  me  by  the  Horseherd  and  his  com- 
rades, these  varice  lectiones  will  not  rack  our  brains 
nearly  so  badly.  I  have  been  reproached  for  still 
owing  my  friends  an  answer  to  the  attacks  which 
they  directed  exclusively  against  Christian  religion. 
It  was,  however,  impossible  to  deal  thoroughly  with 
these  matters,  without  first  taking  into  consideration 
their  objections  against  all  religion. 

I  therefore  first  endeavoured  to  make  clear  to  my 
unknown  friends  two  things,  which  constitute  the 
foundation  of  all  religion:  first,  that  the  world  is 
rational,  that  it  is  the  result  of  thought,  and  that  in 
this  sense  only  is  it  the  creation  of  a  being  which 
possesses  reason,  or  is  reason  itself  (the  Logos) ; 


158  THE  SILESIAN  HOBSEHERD 

and  secondly,  that  mind  or  thought  cannot  be  the 
outcome  of  matter,  but  on  the  contrary  is  the 
prim  of  all  things.  To  this  end  a  statement  of 
the  results  of  the  philosophy  of  language  was  abso- 
lutely necessary,  partly  to  establish  more  clearly  the 
relation  of  thought  to  speech,  partly  to  comprehend 
the  true  meaning  of  the  Logos  or  the  Word  in  the 
New  Testament,  and  understand  in  how  easily  in- 
telligible and  perfectly  reasonable  a  sense  the  term 
"  Word  "  (Logos)  can  be  applied  to  the  Son  of  God. 

I  am  not  one  of  those  who  pretend  to  find  no 
difficulties  in  all  these  questions,  On  the  contrary, 
I  have  wrestled  with  them  for  years,  and  remember 
well  the  joy  I  felt  when  first  the  true  historical 
meaning  of  the  opening  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  "  In 
the  beginning  was  the  word,"  became  clear  to  me.  It 
is  true  that  I  turned  no  somersaults  like  the  Horse- 
herd,  but  I  was  well  satisfied.  I  do  not  therefore 
consider  the  objections  raised  by  him  as  unfounded 
or  without  justification ;  on  the  contrary,  it  were 
better  if  others  would  speak  with  the  same  freedom 
as  he  has  done,  although  a  calmer  tone  in  such 
matters  would  be  more  effective  than  the  fortissimo 
of  the  Horseherd. 

What  aided  me  most  in  the  solution  of  these  re- 
ligious or  theological  difficulties,  was  a  comparative 
study  of  the  religions  of  mankind.  In  spite  of  their 
differences,  they  are  all  afflicted  with  the  same 
ailments,  and  when  we  find  that  we  encounter  the 
same  difficulties  in  other  religions  as  those  with 


THE   REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          159 

which  we  are  ourselves  contending,  it  is  safe  to  con- 
sider them  as  deeply  rooted  in  human  nature,  and  in 
this  same  nature,  be  it  weak  or  strong,  to  seek  their 
solution.  As  comparative  philology  has  proved  that 
many  of  the  irregular  nouns  and  verbs  are  really  the 
most  regular  and  ancient,  so  it  is  with  the  irregular, 
that  is,  the  miraculous  occurrences  in  the  history  of 
religion.  Indeed,  we  may  now  say  that  it  would  be 
a  miracle  if  there  were  anywhere  any  religion  with- 
out miracles,  or  if  the  Scriptures  on  which  any  reli- 
gion is  based  were  not  presented  by  the  priests  and 
accepted  by  the  believers  as  of  superhuman,  even 
divine'  origin,  and  therefore  infallible.  In  all  these 
matters  we  must  seek  for  the  reasons,  and  in  this 
manner  endeavour  to  understand  their  truth  as  well 
as  error. 

Whether  or  not  I  have  succeeded  in  proving  that 
the  world  is  rational,  and  that  mind  is  the  prius  of 
matter,  I  must  leave  to  the  decision  of  the  Horseherd 
and  his  friends.  Fortunately  these  questions  are  of 
that  nature  that  we  may  entertain  different  opinions 
upon  them  without  accusing  each  other  of  heresy. 
Many  Darwinians,  for  instance,  Romanes,  and  even 
Huxley,  have  always  considered  themselves  good 
Christians,  although  they  believed  the  doctrine  of 
Darwin  to  be  the  only  way  of  salvation.  If,  however, 
we  take  up  such  questions  as  were  propounded  to  me 
by  the  Horseherd,  and  which  have  more  to  do  with 
Christian  theology  than  Christian  religion,  there  is 
an  immediate  change  of  tone,  and  unfortunately  the 


160  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

difference  of  view  becomes  at  once  a  difference  of 
aim.  The  moral  element  enters  immediately,  and 
those  who  believe  otherwise  are  designated  unbe- 
lievers, though  we  do  not  at  once  stamp  those  who 
think  otherwise  as  incapable  of  thought.  Here  lies 
the  great  difficulty  in  considering  and  treating 
calmly  religious,  or  rather,  theological  questions. 
There  is  little  hope  of  reaching  a  mutual  understand- 
ing when  the  first  attack  is  characterised  by  such 
vigour  as  was  shown  by  the  Horseherd  and  many  of 
his  comrades.  He  speaks  at  once  of  tales  of  fraud 
and  deceit,  and  of  the  fantasies  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion. He  says  that  he  is  full  of  bloodthirstiness 
against  the  Jewish  idea  of  God,  and  believes  that  since 
the  writings  of  Hume  and  Schopenhauer,  positive 
Christianity  has  become  a  sheer  impossibility,  and 
more  of  the  same  import.  This  is  certainly  "  fortis- 
simo," but  not  therefore  by  any  means  "  verissimo." 

Other  correspondents,  such  as  Agnosticus,  declare 
all  revelation  a  chimera ;  in  short,  there  has  been  no 
lack  of  expressions  subversive  of  Christianity,  and,  in 
fact,  of  all  revealed  religion. 

At  this  point  a  glance  at  the  development  of  the 
religion  of  the  Hindus  may  be  of  great  service  to 
us.  Nowhere  is  the  idea  of  revelation  worked  out  so 
carefully  as  in  their  literature.  They  have  a  volumi- 
nous literature,  treating  of  religion  and  philosophy, 
and  they  draw  a  very  sharp  distinction  between  re- 
vealed and  unrevealed  works  (/S'ruti  and  Siim'ti). 
Here  much  depends  upon  the  name.  Revealed  meant 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          161 

originally  nothing  more  than  plain  and  clear,  and 
when  we  speak  of  a  revelation,  in  ordinary  life,  this  is 
not  much  more  than  a  communication.  But  erelong 
"  reveal "  was  used  in  the  special  sense  of  a  commu- 
nication from  a  superhuman  to  a  human  being.  The 
question  of  the  possibility  of  such  a  communication 
raised  little  difficulty.  But  this  possibility  depends 
naturally  on  the  prior  conception  of  superhuman  be- 
ings and  of  their  relationship  to  human  beings.  So 
long  as  it  was  imagined  that  they  occasionally  assumed 
human  form,  and  could  mingle  in  very  human  affairs, 
a  communication  from  a  Not-man,  I  will  not  say  a  mon- 
ster, presents  no  great  difficulties.  The  Greeks  went 
so  far  as  to  ascribe  to  men  of  earlier  times  a  closer 
intercourse  with  the  gods.  But  even  with  them  the 
idea  that  man  should  not  enter  too  closely  into  the 
presence  of  the  gods  breaks  forth  here  and  there, 
and  Semele,  who  wished  to  be  embraced  by  Zeus  in 
all  his  glory,  found  her  destruction  in  this  ecstasy. 
As  soon  as  the  Deity  was  conceived  in  less  human 
fashion,  as  in  the  Old  Testament,  intercourse  be- 
tween God  and  man  became  more  and  more  difficult. 
In  Genesis  this  intercourse  is  still  represented  very 
simply  and  familiarly,  as  when  God  walks  about  in 
the  Garden  of  Eden,  and  Adam  and  Eve  are  ashamed 
of  their  nakedness  before  Him.  Soon,  however,  a 
higher  conception  of  God  enters,  so  that  Moses,  for 
example  (Exodus  xxxiii.  23),  may  not  see  the  face 
of  Jehovah,  but  still  ventures  at  least  to  look  upon 
His  back.  The  writer  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  goes 


162  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHEBD 

still  farther  and  declares  (i.  18),  "  No  man  hath  seen 
God  at  any  time,  the  only  begotten  son,  which  is  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  hath  declared  Him." 
Here  we  clearly  see  that  the  possibility  of  intercourse 
between  man  and  God,  and  a  revelation  of  God  to 
man,  depends  chiefly  or  exclusively  on  the  concep- 
tion which  man  has  previously  formed  of  God  and 
man.  In  all  theological  researches  we  must  carefully 
bear  in  mind  that  the  idea  of  God  is  our  idea,  which 
we  have  formed  in  part  through  tradition,  and  in  part 
by  our  own  thinking ;  and  we  must  not  forget  that 
existence  formed  an  essential  attribute  of  this  idea, 
whatever  opposition  may  have  been  raised  against 
the  ontological  proof  in  later  times.  After  what  we 
have  seen  of  the  true  relationship  between  thought 
and  speech,  it  follows  that  the  name,  and  with  it 
the  idea  of  a  divine  being,  can  only  proceed  from 
man.  God  is  and  remains  our  God.  We  can  have 
a  knowledge  of  Him  only  through  our  inner  con- 
sciousness, not  through  our  senses.  God  Himself 
has  no  more  imparted  His  name  to  mankind  than 
the  fixed  stars  and  planets  to  which  we  have  given 
names,  although  we  only  see,  but  do  not  hear  or 
touch  them.  This  must  be  absolutely  clear  to  us 
before  we  dare  speak  of  the  possibility  or  impossi- 
bility of  a  revelation. 

Now  it  is  very  useful,  before  we  treat  of  our  own 
idea  of  a  revelation  emanating  from  God,  to  look 
round  among  other  nations  and  see  how  they  reached 
the  idea  of  a  revelation.  We  see  in  India  that  a 


THE   REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION  163 

number  of  hymns  in  an  ancient  dialect  and  in  fixed 
metres  were  preserved  by  oral  tradition  —  the  method 
was  wonderful,  but  is  authenticated  by  history  —  be- 
fore there  could  have  been  a  thought  of  reducing 
them  to  writing.  These  hymns  contain  very  little 
that  would  appear  to  be  too  high  or  too  deep  for  an 
ordinary  human  poet.  They  are  of  great  interest  to 
us  because  they  make  known,  as  clearly  as  possible, 
the  sound  of  the  oldest  Aryan  language,  and  the 
nature  of  the  oldest  Aryan  gods.  As  Professor 
Deussen,  in  his  valuable  History  of  Philosophy  says, 
(I,  83),  the  Vedic  religion,  which  he  at  the  same 
time  calls  the  oldest  philosophy,  is  richer  in  disclos- 
ures than  any  other  in  the  world.  In  this  sense  he 
very  properly  calls  the  study  of  the  Rigveda  the  high 
school  of  the  science  of  religion,  so  that  as  he  says 
no  one  can  discuss  these  matters  without  a  know- 
ledge of  it.  This  unique  distinction  rests,  as  he  truly 
remarks,  on  the  fact,  "That  the  process  on  which 
originally  all  gods  depend,  the  personification  of  the 
phenomena  of  nature,  while  it  is  more  or  less  ob- 
scured by  all  other  religions,  in  the  Rigveda  still 
takes  place,  so  to  speak,  before  our  eyes  visibly  and 
palpably."  I  have  long  preached  this  in  vain.  All 
who  have  studied  the  Rigveda  say  this,  and  all  who 
have  not  studied  it  say  just  the  contrary,  and  lay 
especial  stress  upon  the  fact  that  these  hymns  contain 
ideas  that  once  and  for  all  they  declare  as  modern. 
But  no  one  has  ever  contended  that  this  is  not  so. 
What  is  historically  the  oldest,  may  from  a  higher 


164  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

point  of  view  be  quite  modern,  and  there  are  schol- 
ars who  even  look  upon  Adam  as  a  reformer  of 
mankind.  Those  who  best  know  the  Rigveda  have 
often  shown  that  it  stands  at  a  tolerably  advanced 
stage,  and  here  and  there  casts  a  distant  glance 
into  its  own  past.  I  myself  have  often  said  that  I 
would  give  much  if  I  could  escape  from  my  own 
proofs  of  the  age  of  this  collection  of  hymns,  and 
could  clearly  show  that  at  least  some  of  these  Vedic 
hymns  had  been  added  later. 

These  hymns,  therefore,  just  because,  judging  from 
their  language  and  metre,  they  are  older  than  every- 
thing else  in  India,  or  even  in  the  entire  Aryan  world, 
and  because  they  are  mainly  concerned  with  the  an- 
cient gods  of  nature,  appeared  to  the  Hindus  them- 
selves as  apaurmheya,  that  is,  not  wrought  by  man. 
They  were  called  $ruti,  (that  which  was  heard),  in 
distinction  from  other  literature,  which  was  desig- 
nated as  Snmti,  or  recollection. 

All  this  is  easily  intelligible.  There  followed  a 
period,  however,  during  which  the  true  understand- 
ing of  the  hymns  became  considerably  obscured,  and 
a  new  series  of  works,  the  so-called  Br&hmawas, 
arose.  These  were  very  different  from  the  hymns. 
They  are  composed  in  a  younger  language  and  in 
prose.  They  treat  of  the  sacrifice,  so  full  of  signifi- 
cance in  India,  at  which  the  hymns  were  employed, 
and  which  seems  to  me  to  have  been  originally  de- 
signed for  measuring  time,  and  thus  served  to  mark 
the  progress  of  civilisation.  They  explain  the  mean- 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          165 

ing  of  the  hymns,  often  quite  erroneously ;  but  they 
contain  some  interesting  information  upon  the  condi- 
tion of  India,  long  after  the  period  when  the  hymns 
first  appeared,  and  yet  before  the  rise  of  Buddhism  in 
the  sixth  century  before  Christ.  It  has  been  supposed 
that,  as  the  Br&hma/ias  were  composed  in  prose,  they 
were  originally  written,  according  to  the  hypothesis  of 
Wolf,  that  prose  everywhere  presupposes  the  know- 
ledge of  writing.  I  cannot  admit  this  in  the  case  of 
India ;  at  any  rate,  there  is  no  trace  of  any  acquaint- 
ance with  writing  in  the  whole  of  this  extensive  mass 
of  literature.  It  was  throughout  a  mnemonic  litera- 
ture, and  just  because  the  art  of  writing  was  unknown, 
the  memory  was  cultivated  in  a  manner  of  which  we 
have  no  idea.  At  all  events,  the  Brahmans  themselves 
knew  nothing  of  the  Br&hmanas  in  written  form,  and 
included  them  with  the  hymns  under  the  names  Veda 
and  £ruti ;  that  is,  they  regarded  them,  in  our  phrase- 
ology, as  revealed,  and  not  the  work  of  men. 

The  remarkable  thing,  however,  is  that  they  did 
not  assume,  like  the  Romans  in  the  case  of  Numa 
and  Egeria,  a  communication  from  the  Vedic  gods 
of  nature  to  ordinary  men,  but  contented  themselves 
with  declaring  that  the  Veda  had  been  seen  by  the 
Bishis,  whose  name  Rishi  they  explained  etymologi- 
cally  as  "  seer." 

It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  what  the  Brahmans  un- 
derstood under  $ruti  was  nothing  more  than  literature 
composed  in  an  ancient  language  (for  the  Br&hmanas 
are  also  composed  in  an  ancient  language,  though 


166  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

not  as  ancient  as  that  of  the  hymns),  and  treating 
of  matters  on  which  apparently  man  alone  can  estab- 
lish no  authority.  For  how  could  ordinary  man  take 
on  himself  to  speak  about  the  gods  or  to  give  direc- 
tions for  the  sacrifice,  to  make  promises  for  the  re- 
ward of  pious  works,  or  even  to  decide  what  is  morally 
right  or  wrong?  More  than  human  authority  was 
necessary  for  this,  and  so  the  Brahmaftas,  as  well  as 
the  hymns,  were  declared  to  be  apaurusheya,  that  is, 
not  human,  though  by  no  means  divine,  in  the 
sense  of  having  been  imparted  by  one  of  the  Devas. 

We  see,  therefore,  that  the  idea  of  the  $ruti,  while 
approaching  to  our  idea  of  revelation  as  apauruslieya^ 
that  is,  not  human,  does  not  quite  coincide  with  it. 
What  was  ancient  and  incomprehensible,  was  called 
superhuman,  and  soon  became  infallible  and  beyond 
assault.  If  we  look  at  other  religions,  we  find 
that  Buddhism  denied  the  Veda  every  authority, 
and  in  conformity  with  its  own  character  especially 
excluded  every  idea  of  superhuman  revelation.  In 
China,  too,  we  look  in  vain  for  revelation.  In  Pal- 
estine, however,  we  find  the  idea  that  the  Lord  Him- 
self spoke  with  Moses,  who  delivered  His  commands 
to  Israel,  and  the  tables  of  the  commandments  were 
even  written  by  God's  own  fingers  on  both  sides.  But 
this  must  not  be  confounded  with  written  literature. 
The  idea  that  the  entire  Old  Testament  was  written 
or  revealed  by  Jehovah  is  absolutely  not  of  ancient 
Jewish  origin,  whatever  respect  may  have  been  shown 
to  the  holy  books  as  recognised  in  the  Synagogue. 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          167 

As  for  Islam,  the  Koran  is  looked  upon  as  com- 
municated to  Mohammed  by  the  angel  Gabriel, 
even  as  Zoroaster  in  the  Avesta  claims  to  have  re- 
ceived certain  communications  in  conversation  with 
Ahuramazda. 

In  Christianity,  in  whose  history  the  theory  of  reve- 
lation has  played  so  great  a  part,  there  is  in  fact  — 
and  this  is  frequently  overlooked  —  no  declaration 
on  the  subject  by  Christ  or  the  apostles  themselves. 
That  the  Gospels,  as  they  have  come  down  to  us,  have 
been  revealed,  is  nowhere  stated  in  them,  nor  can  it 
be  gathered  from  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  or  the 
Epistles.  No  one  has  ever  maintained  that  any 
New  Testament  Scripture  was  known  to  Christ  or 
even  to  the  apostles.1  On  the  contrary,  if  we  take 
the  titles  of  the  Gospels  in  their  natural  meaning, 
they  do  not  purport  to  have  been  written  down  by 
Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John  themselves:  they 
are  simply  the  sacred  history  as  it  was  recorded  by 
others  according  to  each  of  these  men.  Attempts 
have  indeed  been  made  to  reason  away  the  meaning 
of  /cara,  "  according  to,"  and  interpret  it  as  "  by," 
but  it  is  more  natural  to  take  it  in  its  ordinary 
sense.  When  Paul,  in  his  second  Epistle  to  Timothy 
(iii.  16),  says,  "  Every  scripture  inspired  of  God  is 
also  profitable  for  teaching,"  this  is  the  usual  mode 
of  expression  applied  to  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old, 
not  of  the  New  Testament  (John  v.  39),  and  would 

1  This  must  of  course  be  understood  of  authoritative  or  canonical 
Scripture.  —  ed.  J.  E.  C. 


168  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

merely  signify  inspired,  breathed  in,  not  revealed  in 
each  word  and  letter. 

In  any  case  we  learn  this  much  from  a  comparative 
study  of  religions,  that  the  majority  of  them  have 
their  holy  books,  which  are  usually  the  oldest  remains 
of  literature,  oral  or  written,  that  they  possess.  They 
look  upon  the  authors  of  these  Scriptures  as  ex- 
traordinary, even  superhuman  beings;  and  the  later 
theologians  in  order  to  remove  from  the  minds  of 
the  people  every  doubt  as  to  their  truth,  devised  the 
most  ingenious  theories,  to  show  how  these  books 
were  not  produced  by  men,  but  were  merely  seen  by 
them,  and  how  in  the  end  even  the  words  and  letters 
of  the  original  text  were  dictated  to  certain  indi- 
viduals. It  is  imagined,  therefore,  that  the  Deity 
condescended  to  speak  Hebrew  or  Greek  in  the  dia- 
lect of  that  period,  and  that  therefore  no  letter  or 
accent  may  be  disturbed. 

This  would,  of  course,  make  the  matter  very  easy, 
and  this  is  no  doubt  the  reason  why  the  theory  has 
found  so  many  adherents.  It  is  only  strange  that 
no  founder  of  any  religion  ever  appears  to  have  felt 
the  necessity  of  leaving  anything  in  his  own  writing 
either  to  his  contemporaries  or  to  posterity.  No  one 
has  ever  attempted  to  prove  that  Moses  wrote  books, 
nor  has  it  ever  been  said  of  Christ  that  he  composed 
a  book  (John  vii.  15).  The  same  is  true  of  Buddha, 
in  spite  of  the  legend  of  the  alphabets;  and  of  Mo- 
hammed we  know  from  himself  that  he  could  neither 
read  nor  write.  What  we  possess,  therefore,  in  the 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          169 

way  of  holy  Scriptures  is  always  the  product  of  a 
later  generation,  and  subject  to  all  the  hazards  in- 
volved in  oral  tradition.  This  was  not  to  be  avoided, 
and  ought  not  to  surprise  us.  If  we  attempt  our- 
selves to  write  down  without  the  aid  of  books  or 
memoranda,  occurrences  or  conversations  of  which 
we  were  witnesses  fifty  years  ago,  we  shall  see  how 
difficult  it  is,  and  how  untrustworthy  is  our  memory. 
We  may  be  entirely  veracious,  but  it  by  no  means 
follows  that  we  are  also  true  and  trustworthy.  Let 
any  one  try  to  describe  the  incidents  of  the  Austro- 
Prussian  War  without  referring  to  books,  and  he  will 
see  how,  with  the  best  intentions,  names  and  dates  will 
waver  and  reel.  When  did  the  German  National  As- 
sembly elect  the  German  Emperor  ?  Who  were  the 
members  of  the  regency?  Who  was  Henry  Simon, 
and  were  there  one  or  more  Simons,  like  the  nine 
Simons  in  the  New  Testament?  Who  can  answer 
these  questions  now  without  newspapers,  and  yet 
these  are  matters  only  fifty  years  old,  and  at  the 
time  were  well  known  to  all  of  us.  Was  it  different 
with  the  Christians  in  the  year  50  A.D.  ?  It  was 
therefore  very  natural  that  a  certain  inspiration  or 
preeminent  endowment  should  be  demanded  for  the 
authors  of  the  Gospels ;  if  some  do  so  still,  it  is  on 
their  own  responsibility,  just  as  if  we  demanded  for 
the  mother  of  Mary  the  same  immaculate  birth  as 
for  Mary  herself,  et  sic  ad  infinitum.  These  are  for  the 
most  part  merely  excuses  for  human  unbelief.  Noth- 
ing proves  the  veracity  of  the  authors  of  the  Gos- 


170  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

pels  so  clearly  as  the  natural,  often  derogatory  words 
which  they  use  of  themselves,  or  even  more  of  the 
apostles.  These  did  not  understand,  as  they  say, 
the  simplest  parables  or  teachings ;  they  were  jealous 
of  one  another ;  Peter  even  denied  the  Lord ;  in  short, 
the  authors  of  the  Gospels  cannot  be  credited  with 
sinlessness  and  infallibility,  supposing  that  they  were 
really  the  apostles. 

If  they  were  not,  then  all  these  difficulties  of  our 
own  making  disappear.  We  then  find  in  the  Gospels 
just  what  we  might  expect :  no  ingeniously  prepared 
statements  without  inconsistencies  and  without  con- 
tradictions, but  simple,  natural  accounts,  such  as 
were  current  from  the  first  to  the  third  generations 
in  certain  circles  or  localities,  and  even  according  to 
the  attachment  of  certain  families  to  the  personal 
narrations  of  one  or  another  of  the  apostles.  We 
must  not  forget  that  in  the  first  generation  the  neces- 
sity for  a  record  was  not  even  felt.  Children  were 
still  brought  up  as  Jews,  for  Christianity  did  not  seek 
to  destroy,  only  to  fulfil ;  and  as  all  the  Scriptures, 
that  is  the  Old  Testament,  were  derived  from  God 
and  were  good  for  instruction,  they  continued  in  use 
for  teaching  without  further  question.  But  in  the 
second  and  third  generations  the  breach  between 
Jews  and  Christians  became  wider  and  wider,  and 
the  number  of  those  who  had  known  Christ  and  the 
apostles,  less  and  less;  the  need  of  books  especially 
for  the  instruction  of  children  consequently  became 
more  urgent,  and  the  four  Gospels  thus  arose  by  a 


THE  REASONABLENESSUi^EiBSiMtjION          171 


natural  process  in  answer  to  a  natural  and  even  irre- 
sistible want.  The  difficulties  involved  even  in  the 
smallest  contradiction  between  the  Gospels  on  a 
theory  of  inspiration  thus  disappear  of  themselves; 
nay,  their  discrepancies  become  welcome,  because 
they  entirely  exclude  every  idea  of  intentional  devi- 
ation, and  simply  exhibit  what  the  historical  condi- 
tions would  lead  us  to  expect.  Of  what  harm  is  it, 
for  instance,  that  Matthew  (viii.  28),  in  relating  the 
expulsion  of  the  devils  in  the  land  of  the  Gergesenes, 
speaks  of  two  possessed  men,  while  Mark  (v.  2) 
knows  only  of  one  among  the  Gadarenes?  Mark 
also  speaks  only  of  unclean  spirits,  while  Matthew 
speaks  of  devils.  Mark  and  Luke  know  the  name 
of  the  sufferer,  Legion ;  Matthew  does  not  mention 
the  Roman  name.  These  are  matters  of  small  import 
in  human  traditions  and  records ;  in  divine  revela- 
tions they  would  be  difficult  to  explain. 

But  it  becomes  still  more  difficult  when  we  come 
to  expressions  which  are  really  significant  and  essen- 
tial for  Christianity,  for  even  in  these  we  find  incon- 
sistencies. What  can  be  more  important  than  the 
passage  in  which  Christ  asks  his  disciples,  "  But  whom 
say  ye  that  I  am,"  and  Peter  answers,  "  Thou  art  the 
Messiah  "  (Mark  viii.  29).  That  was  a  purely  Jewish- 
Christian  answer,  and  Jesus  accepts  it  as  the  perfect 
truth,  which,  however,  should  still  remain  secret.  In 
(Matthew  xvi.  16)  Peter  says  not  only,  "  Thou  art  the 
Messiah,"  but  adds,  "  Son  of  the  living  God."  This 
makes  a  great  difference,  and  the  remarkable  thing 


172  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

is,  that  later  on  Jesus  only  commands  his  disciples  to 
keep  secret  that  he,  Jesus,  was  the  Messiah,  and  says 
nothing  of  himself  as  the  Son  of  God.  So  much  has 
been  written  about  other  discrepancies  in  this  pas- 
sage, particularly  of  the  promise  of  the  building  of  the 
church  upon  this  rock  (Peter),  which  is  only  found 
in  (Matthew  xvi.  18),  that  we  have  nothing  further 
to  say  about  it,  unless  it  be  that  in  Mark  in  this  very 
passage  Jesus  rebukes  Peter  because  he  thinks  more 
of  the  world  than  of  God,  like  so  many  of  his  later 
successors. 

Let  us  bear  in  mind  further  that  neither  revelation 
nor  divine  inspiration  was  really  necessary  for  record- 
ing most  of  the  things  related  in  the  Gospels.  The 
less,  the  better ;  for  either  the  witnesses  knew  that 
Pilate  was  at  the  time  governor  in  Palestine,  that  Caia- 
phas  was  high  priest,  and  that  Jairus  was  ruler  of  a 
synagogue,  or  they  did  not  know  it,  and  in  that  case 
we  cannot  assume  that  these  things  were  revealed  to 
them  by  God  without  irreverence.  If,  however,  it  is 
impossible  that  God  should  have  inspired  or  sanc- 
tioned the  historical  part  of  the  Gospels,  why  then 
the  other  part,  which  contains  the  teachings  of  Christ  ? 
Is  it  not  much  better,  much  more  honest  and  trust- 
worthy for  the  writers  to  have  communicated  them 
to  us,  as  they  knew  and  understood  them  (and  that 
they  occasionally  misunderstood  them  they  them- 
selves quite  honestly  admit),  than  to  have  been  super- 
naturally  inspired  for  the  purpose,  and  even  to  have 
received  a  revelation  in  the  form  of  a  theophany? 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          173 

Through  such  weak  human  ideas  we  merely  drag 
the  Real,  the  truly  Divine,  into  the  dust,  and  from 
whom  do  these  ideas  of  a  divine  inspiration  or  revela- 
tion come,  if  not  from  men  as  they  were  everywhere, 
whether  in  India  or  Judea  ?  Everywhere  the  natural 
is  divine,  the  supernatural  or  miraculous  is  human. 

Even  for  the  Apostles  and  the  authors  of  the  Gos- 
pels there  was  only  one  revelation  :  that  was  the 
revelation  through  Christ ;  and  this  has  an  entirely 
different  meaning.  To  understand  this,  however,  we 
must  glance  at  what  we  know  of  the  intellectual  move- 
ments of  that  time.  The  Jewish  nation  cherished  two 
great  expectations.  The  one  was  ancient  and 
purely  Jewish,  the  expectation  of  the  Messiah,  the 
anointed  (Christ),  who  should  be  the  political  and 
spiritual  liberator  of  the  chosen  but  enslaved  people 
of  Israel.  The  other  was  also  Jewish,  but  transfused 
with  Greek  philosophy,  the  recognition  of  the  word 
(Logos)  as  the  Son  of  God,  who  should  reconcile  or 
unite  humanity  with  God.  The  first  declares  itself 
most  clearly,  though  not  exclusively,  in  the  three  so- 
called  Synoptic  Gospels,  the  second  in  the  so-called 
Gospel  of  John.  But  it  is  worthy  of  note  how  often 
these  apparently  remote  ideas  are  found  combined  in 
the  Gospels.  The  idea  that  a  man  can  be  the  Son  of 
God  was  blasphemy  in  a  strict  Jewish  view,  and  it 
was  for  this  reason  that  the  last  question  of  the  high 
priest  was,  "  I  adjure  thee  by  the  living  God,  that  thou 
tell  us  whether  thou  be  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God  " 
(Matthew  xxvi.  63).  The  Jewish  Messiah  could 


174  THE  SILESIAN  HOESEHERD 

never  be  the  Son  of  God,  the  Word,  in  the  Christian 
sense  of  the  term,  but  only  in  the  sense  in  which 
many  nations  have  called  God  the  Father  of  men. 
In  this  sense,  also,  the  Jews  say  (John  viii.  4), 
"  We  have  one  father,  even  God,"  while  they  start 
back  affrighted  at  the  idea  of  a  divine  sonship  of 
man.  The  Messiah,  according  to  Jewish  doctrine, 
was  to  be  the  son  of  David  (Matthew  xxii.  42),  as 
the  people  appear  to  have  called  Jesus  (  Mark  x.  47, 
xv.  39),  and  in  order  to  counteract  this  view  Christ 
himself  said,  in  a  passage  of  great  historical  import : 
"  How  then  doth  David  in  spirit  call  the  Messiah 
Lord,  saying,  The  Lord  said  unto  my  Lord,  Sit  thou 
on  my  right  hand  till  I  make  thine  enemies  thy  foot- 
stool ?  If  then  David  called  him  Lord,  how  is  he  his 
son?"  With  these  words  the  true  Messiah  publicly 
renounced  his  royal  descent  from  David,  whilst  he 
immediately  laid  claim  to  a  much  higher  one.  Of 
what  use  is  it,  then,  that  the  author  of  the  Gospel 
takes  such  pains  in  the  first  chapter  to  trace  Joseph's 
descent  genealogically  from  David,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  he  does  not  represent  Joseph  himself  as  the  natu- 
ral father  of  Jesus  ? 

These  contradictions  are  quite  conceivable  in  an  age 
strongly  influenced  by  different  intellectual  currents, 
but  they  would  be  intolerable  in  a  revealed  or  divinely 
inspired  book.  All  becomes  intelligible,  clear,  and 
free  from  contradiction,  if  we  see  in  the  Synoptic  Gos- 
pels that  which  they  profess  to  be  —  narratives  of  what 
had  long  been  told  and  believed  in  certain  circles 


THE   REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          175 

about  the  teaching  and  person  of  Christ.  I  say,  what 
they  themselves  profess  to  be ;  for  can  we  believe, 
that  if  the  authors  had  really  witnessed  a  miraculous 
vision,  if  every  word  and  every  letter  had  been  whis- 
pered to  them,  they  would  have  made  no  mention  of 
it?  They  relate  so  many  wonders,  why  not  this  one, 
the  greatest  of  all  ?  But  it  is  not  enough  that  they 
do  not  claim  any  miraculous  communication  for 
themselves  or  their  works.  Luke  states  in  plain 
words  the  character  of  his  gospel,  "  For  as  much  as 
many  have  taken  in  hand  to  draw  up  a  narrative  con- 
cerning those  matters  which  have  been  fulfilled  among 
us,  even  as  they  delivered  them  unto  us,  which  from 
the  beginning  were  eye-witnesses,  and  ministers  of 
the  word  (Logos) ;  it  seemed  good  to  me  also,  hav- 
ing traced  the  course  of  all  things  accurately  from  the 
first,  to  write  unto  thee  in  order,  most  excellent  Theo- 
philus,  that  thou  mightest  know  the  certainty  con- 
cerning the  things  wherein  thou  wast  instructed." 

What  can  be  clearer?  Theophilus  had  evidently 
received  a  not  very  systematic  Christian  training, 
such  as  was  possible  under  the  conditions  of  that 
time.  As  Luke  says,  there  were  even  then  several 
works  on  the  matters  of  common  belief  among  Chris- 
tians. In  order,  however,  that  Theophilus  may  have 
a  trustworthy  knowledge  of  them,  his  friend  (whether 
Luke  or  any  one  else)  determines  to  communicate 
them  to  him  in  regular  order,  as  they  had  been  im- 
parted to  him,  without  asserting  that  he  had  himself 
been  from  the  beginning  an  eye-witness  of  them,  or 


176  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

a  minister  of  the  Word.  It  is  apparent,  therefore, 
that  the  writer  rests  upon  a  tradition  derived  from 
eye-witnesses,  and  that  he  had  even  investigated 
everything  with  care.  Is  it  credible  that  he  would 
not  have  made  mention  of  a  revelation  or  a  theophany, 
had  either  fallen  to  his  lot  ?  He  also  lays  stress  upon 
his  orderly  arrangement,  which  probably  implies  that 
even  at  that  time  there  were  the  same  discrepancies 
in  the  sequence  of  events  that  we  observe  in  the  four 
Gospels,  to  say  nothing  about  the  numerous  apocryphal 
Gospels.  This  is  just  what  we  as  historians  expected, 
in  fact  it  could  scarcely  be  otherwise.  Christ's  mes- 
sage had  first  to  pass  through  the  colloquial  process, 
the  leavening  process  of  oral  transmission ;  then  fol- 
lowed the  reduction  to  written  form,  and  it  is  this 
that  we  have,  apart  from  the  corruptions  of  copyists. 
It  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  it  could  have  been 
otherwise,  and  still  we  are  not  content  with  these 
facts,  and  imagine  that  we  could  have  done  it  much 
better  ourselves. 

When  we  take  the  Synoptic  Gospels  one  by  one, 
we  find  in  Luke  the  most  complete  and  probably  the 
latest  sequence  of  all  the  important  events  ;  in  Mark, 
the  shortest  and  probably  most  original  narrative, 
which  only  contains  that  which  seemed  to  him  undis- 
puted or  of  the  greatest  importance  ;  while  Matthew, 
on  the  contrary,  clearly  presents  the  tradition  formed 
and  established  among  the  Jewish  Christians  and 
believers  in  the  Messiah. 

If  we  may  speak  of  communities  at  this  early  time, 


THE  EEASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          177 

the  community  for  which  the  first  Gospel  was  intended 
manifestly  consisted  of  converted  Jews,  who  had  rec- 
ognised in  Jesus  their  long-expected  Messiah  or  Christ, 
and  were,  therefore,  convinced  that  everything  which 
had  been  expected  of  the  Messiah  came  true  in  this 
Jesus.  They  went  still  farther.  When  they  were 
once  convinced  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah,  many 
traditions  arose  which  ascribed  to  him  what  he,  if  he 
were  the  Messiah,  must  have  done.  This  is  the  per- 
vading feature  of  the  first  Gospel,  as  every  one  who 
reads  it  carefully  may  easily  be  convinced.  This 
alone  explains  the  frequent  and  frank  expression  that 
this  and  that  occurred  "for  thus  it  was  written,  and 
thus  it  was  spoken  by  the  prophet."  Every  idea  of 
intentional  invention  of  Messianic  fulfilments,  which 
has  so  often  been  asserted,  disappears  of  itself  in  our 
interpretation  of  the  origin  of  the  Gospel.  It  must 
be  so,  people  thought,  and  they  soon  told  themselves 
and  their  children  that  it  had  been  so,  and  all  in  good 
faith,  for  otherwise  Jesus  could  not  have  been  the 
expected  Messiah. 

If  we  examine  the  gospel  of  Matthew  from  this  his- 
torical standpoint  in  detail,  we  find  that  it  begins 
with  an  entirely  unnecessary  genealogy  of  Joseph,  the 
ostensible  father  of  Jesus.  Then  follows  the  birth, 
and  this  is  confirmed  in  i.  22,  "  For  all  this  was  done, 
that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  the 
Lord  through  the  prophet,"  namely,  Isaiah  (vii.  14), 
"  Behold  a  maiden  is  with  child  and  shall  bear  a  son, 
and  shall  call  his  name  Immanuel."  This  means  sim- 


178  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

ply  that  it  will  be  the  first-born  son,  and  that  he  will 
be  called  "  God  is  with  us,"  and,  therefore,  certainly 
nothing  supernatural. 

The  next  story  that  the  birth  took  place  in  Bethle- 
hem, and  that  the  wise  men  from  the  East  saw  the 
star  over  Bethlehem,  is  again  founded  on  the  prophet's 
word  that  the  ruler  of  Israel  would  come  from 
Bethlehem. 

When  the  flight  of  Joseph  and  Mary  to  Egypt  with 
the  Christ  child  is  told,  it  is  again  set  forth  in  ii.  15, 
that  what  the  prophet  said  might  be  fulfilled,  "  Out 
of  Egypt  have  I  called  my  son." 

The  massacre  of  the  children  in  Bethlehem,  with  all 
its  difficulties  in  the  eyes  of  the  historian,  finds  a  suf- 
ficient reason  in  verse  17  on  the  words  which  were 
spoken  by  Jeremiah  the  prophet,  "  A  voice  was  heard 
in  Rama,  weeping  and  great  mourning,  Rachel  weep- 
ing for  her  children ;  and  she  would  not  be  comforted, 
because  they  are  not." 

Later,  when  Joseph  returns  with  the  child  and  jour- 
neys to  Nazareth,  this  too  is  explained  by  the  words 
of  the  prophet,  who  said,  "He  shall  be  called  a 
Nazarene." 

On  the  false  idea  of  the  words  of  the  prophet,  that 
a  Nazarene  is  an  inhabitant  of  Nazareth,  I  shall  say 
nothing  here.  Everything,  even  such  popular  errors, 
is  quite  intelligible  from  this  point  of  view,  and  only 
shows  how  convinced  the  people  were  that  Jesus  was 
the  Messiah,  and  therefore  must  have  fulfilled  every- 
thing which  was  expected  of  the  Messiah.  To  us 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          179 

these  fulfilments  of  the  prophecy  may  not  sound  very 
convincing.  But  as  a  presentation  of  the  ideas  which 
then  held  sway  over  the  people,  and  as  proof  of  the 
grasp  of  the  colloquial  process,  they  are  of  great 
value  to  the  historian. 

The  appearance  of  John  the  Baptist,  too,  is  im- 
mediately explained  by  reference  to  prophetic  words 
(iii.  3).  And  when  Jesus,  after  the  imprisonment  of 
John,  left  his  abode  and  removed  to  Capernaum,  as 
was  quite  natural,  this,  likewise  must  have  occurred 
(iv.  14-16)  that  certain  words  of  Isaiah  should  be 
fulfilled. 

There  follows  in  the  fifth  to  the  seventh  chapters 
the  real  kernel  of  Christian  teaching  in  the  sermon 
on  the  mount,  and  the  announcement  of  the  coming 
kingdom  of  God  upon  earth.  Here  we  ask  nothing 
more  than  a  true  statement,  such  as  an  apostle  or  his 
disciples  were  fully  in  a  position  to  give  us.  No 
miraculous  inspiration  is  needed  for  it ;  on  the  con- 
trary, it  would  only  injure  for  us  the  trustworthiness 
of  the  reporter.  In  the  next  chapters  we  read  of 
the  works  done  by  Jesus,  which  were  soon  con- 
strued by  the  people  as  miracles,  while  in  another 
place  the  evangelist  sets  the  forgiveness  of  sins 
higher  than  all  miracles,  than  all  healing  of  the  sick, 
and  even  declares  this  to  be  a  power  which  God  had 
given  to  men  (ix.  8).  Jesus  himself  often  makes 
his  healing  power  depend  on  the  faith  of  the  person 
to  be  healed,  and  of  miraculous  arts  he  says  not  a 
word  (ix.  28).  Next  follow  the  appointment  and 


180  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

despatch  of  the  disciples,  and  soon  after  those  words, 
which  are  so  significant  for  this  Gospel  (xi.  27), 
"All  things  are  delivered  unto  me  of  my  Father;  and 
no  man  knoweth  the  Son,  but  the  Father;  neither 
knoweth  any  man  the  Father,  save  the  Son,  and  he  to 
whomsoever  the  son  willeth  to  reveal  him."  Here  we 
have  in  a  few  words  the  true  spirit,  the  true  inspira- 
tion of  the  teaching  which  Christ  proclaimed,  that 
he  was  not  only  the  Messiah  or  the  son  of  David, 
but  the  true  son  of  God,  the  Logos,  which  God 
willed  when  he  willed  man,  the  highest  thought 
of  God,  the  highest  revelation  of  God,  which  was 
imparted  in  Jesus  to  blind  humanity.  We  cannot 
judge  of  this  so  correctly  as  those  who  saw  and 
knew  Jesus  in  his  corporeal  existence,  and  found  in 
him  all  those  perfections,  particularly  in  his  life  and 
conduct,  of  which  human  nature  is  capable.  We 
must  here  rely  on  the  evidence  of  his  contemporaries 
who  had  no  motive  to  discover  in  him,  the  son  of 
a  carpenter,  the  realisation  on  earth  of  the  divine 
ideal  of  man,  if  this  ideal  had  not  stood  realised  in 
him,  before  their  eyes,  in  the  flesh.  What  is  true 
Christianity  if  it  be  not  the  belief  in  the  divine  son- 
ship  of  man,  as  the  Greek  philosophers  had  rightly 
surmised,  but  had  never  seen  realised  on  earth? 
Here  is  the  point,  where  the  two  great  intellectual 
currents  of  the  Aryan  and  Semitic  worlds  flow  to- 
gether, in  that  the  long-expected  Messiah  of  the  Jews 
was  recognised  as  the  Logos,  the  true  son  of  God, 
and  that  he  opened  or  revealed  to  every  man  the 


THE   REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          181 

possibility  to  become  what  he  had  always  been,  but 
had  never  before  apprehended,  the  highest  thought, 
the  Word,  the  Logos,  the  Son  of  God.  Knowing 
here  means  being.  A  man  may  be  a  prince,  the  son 
of  a  king,  but  if  he  does  not  know  it,  he  is  not  so. 
Even  so  from  all  eternity  man  was  the  son  of  God, 
but  until  he  really  knew  it,  he  was  not  so.  The 
reporters  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels  only  occasionally 
recognise  the  divine  sonship  of  man  with  real  clear- 
ness, for  in  their  view  the  practical  element  in  Chris- 
tianity was  predominant,  but  in  the  end  everything 
practical  must  be  based  upon  theory  or  faith.  Our 
duties  toward  God  and  man,  our  love  for  God  and 
for  man,  are  as  nothing,  without  the  firm  foundation 
which  is  formed  only  by  our  faith  in  God,  as  the 
Thinker  and  Ruler  of  the  world,  the  Father  of  the 
Son,  who  was  revealed  through  him  as  the  Father  of 
all  sons,  of  all  men.  Such  sayings  are  especially  sig- 
nificant in  the  Synoptic  Evangelists,  because  it  might 
appear  as  though  they  had  not  recognised  the  deepest 
mystery  of  the  revelation  of  Christ,  but  were  satisfied 
with  the  purely  practical  parts  of  his  teachings. 
Shortly  after,  when  Jesus  again  proves  his  healing 
powers  among  the  people,  and  the  Pharisees  per- 
secute him  because  the  people  were  more  and  more 
inclined  to  recognise  in  him  the  son  of  David,  the 
Evangelist  again  declares  (xii.  17)  that  all  this 
occurred  that  the  words  of  the  prophet  Isaiah  might 
be  fulfilled,  "  Behold  my  servant,  whom  I  have  chosen, 
my  beloved  in  whom  my  soul  is  well  pleased;  I  will 


182  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

put  my  spirit  upon  him,  and  he  shall  declare  judg- 
ment unto  the  Gentiles." 

Then  follow  many  of  the  profoundest  and  most 
beautiful  parables  which  contain  the  secrets  of 
Christ's  teaching,  and  of  which  some,  as  we  read, 
and  not  by  any  means  the  most  obscure,  remained 
unintelligible  even  to  the  disciples.  Even  at  that 
time  his  fame  had  become  so  great,  that  on  return- 
ing to  his  own  birthplace,  the  people  would  scarcely 
believe  that  he  was  the  same  as  the  son  of  the  car- 
penter, that  his  mother  was  named  Mary,  and  his 
brothers,  Jacob,  Joseph,  Simon,  and  Judas,  who  like 
his  sisters  were  all  still  living.  Yet  among  his  own 
people  he  could  accomplish  but  few  works.  The  Gos- 
pel then  goes  on  to  relate  that  as  Herod  had  caused 
John  to  be  beheaded,  Jesus  again  withdrew  to  a 
lonely  place,  probably  to  escape  the  persecutions  of 
Herod.  Then  follow  the  really  important  chapters, 
full  of  teachings  and  of  parables,  intended  to  illumine 
these  teachings  and  to  bring  them  home  to  the  people. 
Here  we  naturally  do  not  expect  any  appeal  to  the 
prophets ;  on  the  contrary  we  often  find  a  very  bold 
advance  beyond  the  ancient  law  or  a  higher  inter- 
pretation of  the  ancient  Jewish  teachings.  As  soon, 
however,  as  we  return  to  facts  like  the  last  journey 
to  Jerusalem,  and  the  arrest  of  Jesus  through  the 
treachery  of  Judas,  the  words  immediately  recur  that 
all  this  came  to  pass  that  the  Scriptures  should  be 
fulfilled  (xxvi.  54).  Even  Jesus  himself,  when  he 
commands  his  disciples  to  make  no  resistance,  must 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          183 

have  added  the  words,  "  But  how  then  shall  the  scrip- 
tures be  fulfilled,  that  thus  it  must  be,"  which  clearly 
refers  to  the  famous  prophecy  of  Isaiah  in  the  fifty- 
third  chapter.  Even  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  which 
were  paid  Judas  for  his  betrayal,  are  considered  neces- 
sary, that  a  prophesy  of  Jeremiah's  may  be  fulfilled. 
But  it  seems  that  this  prophesy  is  not  to  be  found  in 
Jeremiah,  and  must  be  sought  in  Zechariah  (xi.  12, 
13).  Such  a  confusion  might  easily  occur  among  the 
people,  imperfectly  acquainted  with  the  text  of  the 
prophets.  In  this  case,  therefore,  it  is  quite  harm- 
less ;  but  how  could  it  possibly  occur  in  a  revealed 
gospel?  At  the  crucifixion  of  Jesus  the  garments 
are  divided,  and  another  passage  is  immediately  re- 
called, this  time  in  a  Psalm  (xxii.  19),  in  which  the 
poet  says  of  himself  that  his  enemies  divided  his  gar- 
ments between  them,  but  there  is  'no  mention  of  the 
Messiah.  Such  an  application  of  the  words  of  the 
Psalm  to  Jesus  is  perfectly  intelligible  in  the  con- 
temporary feeling  of  the  Jewish  people.  Once  con- 
vinced that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah  or  Christ,  all  the 
incidents  of  his  life  and  death  must  necessarily  re- 
mind them  of  the  prophecies  which  had  been  current 
for  years,  and  kept  alive  among  them  the  hope  of 
their  deliverer.  Such  details  were  probably  em- 
ployed to  deepen  the  conviction  in  themselves  and 
others  that  Jesus  was  really  the  Messiah.  This  is  all 
quite  natural  and  comprehensible ;  but  if  we  look  at 
it  with  the  idea  that  the  writer  was  called  and  in- 
spired by  God,  what  must  we  say?  First,  in  some 


184  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

cases  there  are  plain  errors  which  would  be  impossi- 
ble in  an  infallible  witness.  Secondly,  must  we  be- 
lieve that  such  events  as  the  birth  of  Christ  in 
Bethlehem  and  his  betrayal  by  Judas  took  place 
merely  in  order  that  certain  prophecies  might  be  ful- 
filled? This  would  reduce  the  life  of  Christ  to  a 
mere  phantasm  and  rob  it  of  its  entire  historical  sig- 
nificance. Or  shall  we  assume  (as  some  critics  have 
done)  that  all  these  events  were  simply  invented  to 
prove  the  Messiahship  of  Jesus  ? 

From  all  these  difficulties  we  escape  when  we  rec- 
ognise in  the  Gospels  a  record  or  deposit  of  what  was 
developed  in  the  first  century  in  the  consciousness  of 
the  Christians,  and  concerning  the  Gospel  of  Matthew 
in  particular,  Christians  who  were  converts  from  Ju- 
daism. In  this  view  everything  that  borders  on  in- 
tentional deceit  drops  away  of  itself.  The  facts 
remain  as  before,  as  the  people  had  explained  and 
arranged  them.  According  to  Matthew  and  his  suc- 
cessors, Christianity  originated  as  is  described  in  the 
Gospel  according  to  Matthew.  Many  facts  may  in 
the  minds  and  mouths  of  the  people  have  assumed 
a  more  popular  or  legendary  form ;  that  was  not  to 
be  avoided.  We  know  how  much  this  popular  in- 
fluence, or  what  I  call  the  colloquial  process,  has 
infected  the  traditions  of  other  nations,  and  it  is  very 
helpful  to  know  this,  in  order  to  do  justice  to  the 
Gospels.  For  how  should  this  influence  have  been 
wanting  just  in  the  first  and  second  centuries  in 
Palestine?  Everything  becomes  clear  when  we  ac- 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          185 

cept  the  historical  view,  supported  by  many  parallel 
cases,  of  the  origin  of  the  Gospels  in  the  mouths  of 
the  people.  The  tradition  was  just  such  as  we  should 
expect  under  the  existing  conditions.  Of  intentional 
deceit  there  is  no  further  question.  We  cannot  ex- 
pect anything  other  or  better  than  what  we  have,  i.e. 
what  the  people,  or  the  young  Christian  community, 
related  about  the  life  of  the  founder  of  the  new  re- 
ligion, unless  it  were  a  record  from  the  hand  of  the 
founder  of  our  religion  himself ;  for  even  the  apostles 
are  only  depicted  as  men,  and  their  comprehension  is 
represented  as  purely  human  and  often  very  fallible. 
When  we  speak  of  revelation,  the  term  can  only  refer 
to  the  true  revelation  of  the  eternal  truths  through 
Jesus  himself,  as  we  find  them  in  the  Gospels,  and  the 
verity  of  which,  even  where  it  is  somewhat  veiled  by 
the  tradition,  confers  on  it  the  character  of  revela- 
tion. For  it  is  a  fact  which  we  should  never  forget, 
that  even  the  best  attested  revelation,  as  it  can  only 
reach  us  in  human  setting  and  by  human  means, 
does  not  make  truth,  but  it  is  truth,  deeply  felt 
truth,  which  makes  revelation.  Truth  constitutes 
revelation,  not  revelation  truth.  We  therefore  lose 
nothing  by  this  view,  but  gain  immensely,  and  are  at 
once  relieved  from  all  the  little  difficulties  which  a 
laborious  criticism  thinks  it  discovers  by  a  compari- 
son of  the  Gospels  with  one  another.  The  only  diffi- 
culty that  seems  to  remain  is  this,  that  the  Synop- 
tic Gospels  are  so  often  content  to  put  the  Jewish 
conception  of  Jesus  as  the  Messiah,  as  the  son  of 


186  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

David  and  Abraham,  and  finally  as  the  bodily  son 
of  God,  in  the  foreground,  and  only  hint  at  the  leading 
and  fundamental  truth  of  Christ's  teaching.  We  must 
never  forget  that  the  apostles  were  no  philosophers,  and 
the  Logos  idea  in  its  full  significance  and  historical 
development  demands,  for  its  correct  understanding, 
a  considerable  philosophical  training. 

Here  we  are  helped  by  the  Fourth  Gospel,  which 
must  decidedly  be  ascribed  to  Christians  with  more 
of  Greek  culture.  That  Greek  ideas  had  penetrated 
into  Palestine  is  best  seen  in  the  works  of  Philo 
Judaeus,  the  contemporary  of  Jesus.  We  cannot  sup- 
pose that  he  stood  alone,  and  other  Jewish  thinkers 
must  like  him  have  accepted  the  Logos  idea  as  a  solu- 
tion of  the  riddle  of  the  universe.  Out  of  soil  like 
this,  permeated  and  fructified  with  such  ideas,  grew 
the  Fourth  Gospel.  If  we  ever  make  it  plain  to  our- 
selves that  Jews  who,  like  Philo,  had  adopted  the 
Logos  idea  with  all  its  consequences,  necessarily 
recognised  in  the  Logos  the  Son  of  God,  the  chosen 
of  God  (Luke  xxiii.  35),  the  realised  image  of  God, 
and  then  in  the  actual  Jesus  the  incarnation  or  re- 
alisation, or  rather  the  universalising  of  this  image, 
the  Fourth  Gospel  ascribed  to  John  will  become  much 
clearer  to  us.  Here  lies  the  nucleus  of  true  Christian- 
ity, in  so  far  as  it  deals  with  the  personality  of  Christ, 
and  the  relation  of  God  to  humanity.  It  is  no  longer 
said  that  God  has  made  and  created  the  world,  but 
that  God  has  thought  and  uttered  the  world.  All 
existences  are  thoughts,  or  collectively  the  thought 


THE   REASONABLENESS  OF   RELIGION  187 

(Logos)  of  God,  and  this  thought  has  found  its  most 
perfect  expression,  its  truest  word,  in  a  man  in  Jesus. 
In  this  sense  and  in  no  other  was  Jesus  the  Son  of 
God  and  the  Word,  as  the  Jews  of  Greek  culture 
believed,  and  as  the  author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  be- 
lieved, and  as  still  later  the  young  Athanasius  and  his 
contemporaries  believed,  and  as  we  must  believe  if  we 
really  wish  to  be  Christians.  There  is  no  other  really 
Christian  explanation  of  the  world  than  that  God 
thought  and  uttered  it,  and  that  man  follows  in  life 
and  thought  the  thoughts  of  God.  We  must  not  for- 
get that  all  our  knowledge  and  hold  of  the  world 
are  again  nothing  but  thoughts,  which  we  transform 
under  the  law  of  causality  into  objective  realities. 
It  was  this  unswerving  dependence  on  God  in 
thought  and  life  that  made  Jesus  what  he  was,  and 
what  we  should  be  if  we  only  tried,  viz.,  children 
of  God.  This  light  or  this  revelation  shines  through 
here  and  there  even  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels,  though 
so  often  obscured  by  the  Jewish  Messianic  ideas. 

In  the  Fourth  Gospel  the  influence  of  these  ideas 
and  their  employment  by  Jesus  and  his  disciples  can- 
not be  mistaken.  And  why  should  not  Jesus  have 
adopted  and  fulfilled  the  Logos  ideas  of  the  Greek 
world  as  well  as  the  Messianic  ideas  of  the  Jewish 
people  ?  Do  the  Jews  as  thinkers  rank  so  much 
higher  than  the  Greeks  ?  How  does  the  first  verse 
read,  which  might  well  have  been  said  by  a  Neo- 
platonic  philosopher,  "In  the  beginning  was  the 
Word "  ?  This  Word  is  the  Logos,  and  this  Greek 


188  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

word  is  in  itself  quite  enough  to  indicate  the  Greek 
origin  of  the  idea.  Word  (Logos),  however,  signi- 
fied at  the  same  time  thought.  This  creative  Word 
was  with  God,  nay,  God  himself  was  this  Word.  And 
all  things  were  made  by  this  Word,  that  is  to  say,  in 
this  Word  and  in  all  Words  God  thought  the  world. 
Whoever  cannot  or  will  not  understand  this,  will 
never  enter  into  the  deepest  depths  of  the  teaching  of 
Christ,  good  Christian  as  he  may  otherwise  be,  and 
the  Fourth  Gospel  in  its  deepest  meaning  does  not 
exist  for  him.  That  there  was  life  in  these  words  or 
things  shining  forth  from  God,  we  know,  and  this 
life,  be  it  what  it  may,  was  a  light  to  man,  the  light 
of  the  world,  even  though  man  had  long  been  blind 
and  imprisoned  in  darkness,  and  did  not  understand 
the  life,  the  light,  the  Word. 

Now,  in  passing  to  the  gospel  story,  the  evangelist 
says  that  Jesus  brought  or  himself  was  the  true  light, 
while  John's  duty  was  merely  to  announce  his  com- 
ing beforehand.  This  is  certainly  a  great  step  —  it  is 
the  Christian  recognition  of  the  Word  or  of  the  Son 
of  God  in  the  historical  Jesus,  whose  historical  char- 
acter is  confirmed  by  the  character  of  John  the  Baptist. 
The  people  believed  in  John,  and  John  believed  in 
Jesus.  Of  course  we  must  not  assume  that  the 
philosophical  significance  of  the  Word,  or  of  the 
Logos,  was  ever  clearly  and  completely  present  to 
the  people  in  the  form  worked  out  by  the  Neo- 
platonists.  That  was  impossible  at  the  time,  and  it 
is  so  even  now  with  the  great  mass  of  Christians, 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          189 

On  the  other  hand,  the  many  subtleties  and  oddities 
which  have  made  the  later  Neo-platonism  so  repulsive 
to  us,  hardly  existed  for  the  consciousness  of  the 
masses,  which  could  only  adopt  the  fundamental 
ideas  of  the  Logos  system  with  a  great  effort.  Reli- 
gion is  not  philosophy ;  but  there  has  never  been  a 
religion,  and  there  never  can  be,  which  is  not  based 
on  philosophy,  and  does  not  presuppose  the  philo- 
sophical notions  of  the  people.  The  highest  aim, 
toward  which  all  philosophy  strives,  is  and  will 
always  remain  the  idea  of  God,  and  it  was  this  idea 
which  Christianity  grasped  in  the  Platonic  sense, 
and  presented  to  us  most  clearly  in  its  highest  form, 
in  the  Fourth  Gospel.  To  John,  if  for  brevity  we 
may  so  call  the  author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  God 
was  no  longer  the  Jewish  Jehovah,  who  had  created 
the  world  in  six  days,  formed  Adam  out  of  the  dust, 
and  every  living  creature  out  of  the  ground;  for 
him  God  had  acquired  a  higher  significance,  his 
nature  was  a  spiritual  nature,  his  creation  was  a 
spiritual  creation,  and  as  for  man  the  Word  compre- 
hends everything,  represents  everything,  realises 
everything  that  exists  for  him;  so  God  was  conceived 
as  being  in  the  beginning,  and  then  expressing  Him- 
self in  the  Word,  or  as  one  with  the  Word.  To  God 
the  Word,  that  is  the  all-comprehensive  Word,  was 
the  utterance,  the  actualising  or  communicating  of 
His  subjective  divine  ideas,  which  were  in  Him,  and 
through  the  Word  passed  out  of  Him  into  human 
perception,  and  thereby  into  objective  reality.  This 


190  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

second  reality,  inseparable  from  the  first,  was  the 
second  Logos,  inseparable  as  cause  and  effect  are 
inseparable  in  essence.  As  the  highest  of  all  Logoi 
was  man,  the  most  perfect  man  was  recognised  as  the 
son  of  God,  the  Logos  become  flesh,  the  highest 
thought  and  will  of  God.  In  this  there  is  nothing 
miraculous.  Everything  is  consistently  thought  out, 
and  in  this  sense  Jesus  could  have  been  nothing  else 
than  the  Word  or  the  Son  of  God.  All  this  sounds 
very  strange  to  us  at  first,  because  we  have  forgotten 
the  full  meaning  of  the  utterance  or  the  Word,  and 
are  not  able  to  transfer  the  creation  of  the  Word  and 
the  Thought,  even  though  only  in  the  form  of  a  simili- 
tude, to  that  which  was  in  the  beginning.  A  simili- 
tude it  is  and  must  remain,  like  everything  that  we 
say  of  God;  but  it  is  a  higher  and  more  spiritual 
similitude  than  any  that  have  been  or  can  be  applied 
to  God  in  the  various  religions  and  philosophies  of 
the  world.  God  has  thought  the  world,  and  in  the 
act  of  thinking  has  uttered  or  expressed  it ;  and  these 
thoughts  which  were  in  Him,  and  were  thought  and 
uttered  by  Him  in  rational  sequence,  are  the  Logoi, 
or  species,  or  kinds,  which  we  recognise  again  by 
reflection  in  the  objective  world,  as  rationally  devel- 
oping one  from  another.  Here  we  have  the  true 
"  Origin  of  Species  "  long  before  Darwin's  book. 

To  the  philosophers  this  is  all  perfectly  intelligible. 
The  step  taken  by  Christ  and  his  disciples  (those, 
namely,  who  speak  to  us  in  the  Fourth  Gospel)  was 
this,  that  they  believed  they  recognised  in  the  his- 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          191 

torical  Jesus,  the  son  of  the  carpenter  of  Nazareth, 
the  highest  Logos  "  Man"  in  his  complete  realisation. 
It  was  entirely  natural,  but  it  can  only  have  occurred 
after  overpowering  experiences,  for  it  must  have  sig- 
nified more  than  we  understand  under  the  "  ideal  of 
a  man,"  although  originally  both  expressions  are  de- 
rived from  the  same  source.  Nor  was  the  designa- 
tion of  the  Saviour  as  the  Word,  or,  in  more  human 
fashion,  the  Son  of  God,  intended  so  much  for  him 
conceived  purely  spiritually,  but  rather  for  his  per- 
sonality as  inspired  by  the  highest  ideas. 

In  all  these  matters  we  must  think  of  the  ever 
changing  medium,  in  which  these  expressions  moved. 
Word  and  Son  in  the  mouths  of  the  people  might 
coalesce  or  be  kept  quite  apart;  Son  of  David,  Son 
of  Abraham,  might  at  times  take  the  place  of  Son  of 
God,  and  all  these  phrases  might  appear  in  popular 
intercourse  to  express  only  what  others  called  the 
Messiah  or  Christ.  In  any  case,  all  these  were  the 
highest  expressions  which  could  be  applied  to  man 
or  to  the  son  of  man.  To  the  ordinary  understand- 
ing, still  permeated  with  heathen  ideas,  it  was  cer- 
tainly monstrous  to  elevate  a  man  to  Olympus,  to 
transform  him  into  a  son  of  God.  But  what  was 
there  for  man  higher  than  man  ?  Intermediate  beings, 
such  as  demons,  heroes,  or  angels,  had  never  been 
seen,  nor  did  they  answer  the  purpose.  One  step, 
however  small,  above  the  human,  could  only  lead  to 
the  divine,  or  bring  into  consciousness  the  divine  in 
man.  What  seemed  blasphemy  to  the  Jewish  con- 


192  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHEED 

sciousness  was  just  that  truth  which  Christ  pro- 
claimed, the  truth  for  which  he  laid  down  his  human 
life.  If  we  enter  into  this  thought,  we  shall  under- 
stand not  only  the  occasional  expressions  of  the 
Synoptics,  but  the  Fourth  Gospel  especially  in  all  its 
depth.  How  it  was  possible  to  make  this  last  Gospel 
intelligible  without  these  ideas,  is  almost  incompre- 
hensible. 

What,  then,  did  the  readers  think  of  the  Word, 
that  was  in  the  beginning,  that  was  with  God,  that 
even  was  God,  of  the  Word,  by  which  all  things 
were  made  ?  And  what  was  understood  when  Jesus 
was  called  the  Word,  that  was  in  the  world,  without 
the  world  knowing  him,  while  those  who  recognised 
and  acknowledged  him  as  the  Word,  thereby  became 
like  him  sons  of  God?  We  must  ascribe  some  mean- 
ing to  these  words,  and  what  can  we  ascribe  if  we  do 
not  take  the  philosophic  term  "  Logos  "  in  its  historic 
sense?  One  need  only  attempt  to  translate  the 
beginning  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  into  a  non-Christian 
language,  and  we  shall  realise  that  without  its  heathen 
antecedents  the  words  remain  absolutely  unintel- 
ligible. We  find  translations  that  mean  simply,  "  In 
the  beginning  was  the  substantive."  That  may  seem 
incredible  to  us  ;  but  what  better  idea  has  a  poor  old 
peasant  woman  in  reading  the  first  chapter  of  the 
Fourth  Gospel,  and  what  better  idea  can  the  village 
preacher  give  her  if  she  asks  for  an  explanation  ? 

For  us  the  greatest  difficulty  remains  in  verse  14, 
"  The  Word  became  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us." 


THE   REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          193 

But  what  grounds  have  we  for  setting  our  opinion 
against  the  unhesitating  acceptance  of  contemporaries, 
and  later  even  of  the  Alexandrian  philosophers  ?  They 
must  have  felt  the  same  difficulties  as  ourselves,  but 
they  overcame  them  in  consideration  of  what  they 
had  seen  in  Jesus,  or  even  only  heard  of  him.  They 
could  not  comprehend  him  in  his  moral  elevation 
and  holiness,  except  as  the  Logos,  the  Word,  the  Son 
of  God.  If  we  follow  them,  we  are  safe ;  if  not,  we 
can  no  doubt  say  much  in  excuse,  but  we  place  our- 
selves in  the  strongest  opposition  to  history.  We 
may  say  that  men  have  never  seen  any  divine  idea, 
any  divine  word,  any  divine  thought  of  any  kind 
realised  on  earth  ;  nay,  that  man  can  never  have  the 
right  to  pass  such  a  deifying  judgment,  of  his  own 
sovereign  power,  on  anything  lying  within  his  actual 
experience.  We  so  easily  forget  that  if  God  is  once 
brought  near  to  humanity,  and  no  longer  regarded  as 
only  transcendent,  humanity  must,  at  the  same  time, 
be  thought  and  brought  nearer  to  the  divine.  We 
may  acknowledge  this  and  still  maintain  that  others, 
like  the  apostles  and  the  philosophers  of  Alexandria 
after  them,  must  have  felt  the  same  difficulty,  perhaps 
even  more  strongly  than  we,  who  never  were  eye- 
witnesses nor  Platonic  philosophers.  Yet  they  still 
insisted  that  Jesus  in  his  life,  conduct,  and  death 
demonstrated  that  human  nature  could  rise  no  higher 
than  in  him,  and  that  he  was  all  and  fulfilled  all  that 
God  had  comprised  in  the  Logos  "  man."  Jesus  him- 
self declares,  when  Peter  first  called  him  the  son  of 


194  THE  SILESIAN  HORSE  HERD 

God,  that  flesh  and  blood  had  not  revealed  it  unto 
him,  but  his  Father  which  is  in  heaven  (Matthew  xvi. 
17).  And  this  was  perfect  truth  and  applies  to  us 
also. 

We  may  go  through  the  whole  Fourth  Gospel,  and 
we  shall  find  that  it  remains  incomprehensible,  except 
from  the  standpoint  that  we  ascribe  to  the  author. 
When  we  read  (i.  18),  "  No  man  hath  seen  God  at 
any  time ;  the  only  begotten  Son,  which  is  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Father,  he  hath  declared  him,"  shall  we 
then  think  only  of  the  son  of  the  carpenter,  the 
bodily  Jesus,  and  not  rather  of  the  Word  that  was 
in  him,  and  that  was  as  near  to  the  Father  as  He  to 
himself;  that  was  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  and  that 
declared  to  us  the  Father,  who  was  in  the  beginning  ? 
Has  not  Jesus  himself  stated  (iii.  13)  that  no  man 
hath  ascended  up  to  heaven  except  him  who  came 
down  from  heaven,  that  is  from  God,  and  that  no  one 
has  seen  the  Father,  save  he  which  is  of  God,  that  is 
the  Son  (vi.  46)?  These  are,  of  course,  figurative 
expressions,  but  their  meaning  cannot  be  doubtful. 
When  Nathanael  called  Jesus,  Rabbi,  King  of  Israel, 
and  Son  of  God,  his  ideas  may  still  have  been  very 
immature,  but  in  time  the  true  meaning  of  the  Son 
of  God  breaks  through  more  and  more  clearly. 

The  declaration  of  Jesus  to  Nicodemus,  "  Ye  must 
be  born  anew,"  is  a  remarkable  one  —  remarkable, 
because  the  Brahmans  from  the  earliest  times  make 
use  of  the  same  expression,  and  call  themselves  the 
reborn,  the  twice  born  (Dvija),  and  both  no  doubt 


THE   REASONABLENESS  OF   RELIGION  195 

attributed  the  same  meaning  to  the  second  birth, 
namely,  the  recognition  of  the  true  nature  of  man,  the 
Brahmans  as  one  with  Brahman,  that  is,  the  Word ; 
the  Christians  as  one  with  the  Word,  or  the  Son  of 
God.  And  why  should  this  belief  in  the  Son  give 
everlasting  life  (ii.  16)  ?  Because  Jesus  has  through 
his  own  sonship  in  God  declared  to  us  ours  also. 
This  knowledge  gives  us  eternal  life  through  the 
conviction  that  we  too  have  something  divine  and 
eternal  within  us,  namely,  the  word  of  God,  the  Son, 
whom  He  hath  sent  (v.  38).  Jesus  himself,  however, 
is  the  only  begotten  Son,  the  light  of  the  world.  He 
first  fulfilled  and  illumined  the  divine  idea  which  lies 
darkly  in  all  men  (see  John  viii.  12,  xii.  35,  46), 
and  made  it  possible  for  all  men  to  become  actually 
what  they  have  always  been  potentially  —  sons  of 
God. 

Further  reading  in  the  Fourth  Gospel  will  of 
course  show  us  many  things  that  are  only  indirectly 
connected  with  this,  which  I  believe  to  be  the  su- 
preme truth  of  Christianity.  To  the  woman  of  Sama- 
ria Jesus  only  declares  that  God  is  a  spirit,  and 
that  he  must  be  worshipped  in  spirit,  bound  neither 
to  Jerusalem  nor  to  Samaria.  She  knows  only  that 
the  Messiah  will  come,  she  was  scarcely  ready  for 
the  idea  of  a  son  of  God,  but  like  the  Pharisees 
(v.  18)  would  have  considered  this  only  as  blas- 
phemy (x.  33).  But  again  and  again  the  keynote 
of  the  new  teaching  breaks  through.  When  Jesus 
speaks  of  his  works,  he  calls  them  the  works  of  his 


196  THE  SILESIAN  HOBSEHERD 

Father  (v.  19)  ;  even  the  resurrection  from  the  dead 
is  explained  by  him,  as  clearly  as  possible,  to  be  an 
awakening  through  the  Word,  "  He  that  heareth 
my  word,  and  believeth  on  him  that  sent  me,  hath 
everlasting  life "  (v.  14),  which  means  that  he  is 
immortal.  He,  however,  who  did  not  recognise  the 
Word  and  his  divine  nature,  as  Jesus  taught  it,  does 
not  yet  possess  that  eternal  life,  for  which  he  is 
destined,  but  which  must  first  be  gained  through 
insight,  or  belief  in  Jesus.  Can  anything  be  clearer 
than  the  words  (John  xvii.  3),  "And  this  is  life 
eternal,  that  they  might  know  thee,  the  only  true 
God,  and  Jesus  Christ,  whom  thou  hast  sent "  ?  Of 
course  many  of  these  expressions  were  not  understood 
by  the  masses,  or  were  even  misunderstood.  The 
words  were  repeated,  and  when  necessary,  especially 
in  the  questionings  of  children,  they  had  to  be  ex- 
plained somehow,  often  by  a  parable  or  story,  which 
the  mother  invents  at  the  moment,  to  quiet  them. 
All  this  is  inevitable;  it  has  happened  everywhere, 
and  happens  still.  Whoever  wishes  to  learn  how 
tradition  or  common  report  treats  historical  facts, 
should  compare  the  Giinther  or  Etzel  of  the  Nibe- 
lungen  with  the  Gundicarius  or  Attila  of  history,  or 
Charles  the  Great  crowned  by  the  Pope  with  the 
Charlemagne  who  besieged  Jerusalem,  or  Hruod- 
landus  with  Roland,  or  Arturus  with  Arthur.  Or, 
to  come  to  later  days,  we  need  only  recall  the  won- 
derful tales  of  the  French  journals  during  the  last 
Franco-German  War,  and  we  shall  be  astonished  at 


THE   REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          197 

the  manner  in  which,  quite  unintentionally,  the 
people  adapt  all  tidings  to  their  own  views.  Nine- 
teen hundred  years  ago  there  were  no  newspapers. 
Why  should  it  have  been  different  then  ? 

What  the  children  had  heard  and  believed,  they 
remembered  when  they  had  grown  older,  or  them- 
selves had  become  parents.  It  was  convenient  and 
natural  to  tell  their  children  again  what  they  had 
heard  in  their  own  childhood,  and  like  a  rolling 
stone,  with  each  repetition  the  tradition  constantly 
took  up  new  miraculous  elements.  There  is 
scarcely  a  miracle  in  the  New  Testament  that  did 
not  account  for  itself  spontaneously  in  this  way, 
and  that  did  not  in  its  original  form  reveal  to  us 
a  far  higher  truth  than  the  mere  miracle  itself. 
And  when  the  time  came  for  a  record,  was  it  not 
quite  natural  that  everything  available  should  be 
gathered  together,  according  to  the  tales  told  and 
believed  from  house  to  house,  or  village  to  village  ? 
In  this  process,  moreover,  the  appeal  to  a  voucher, 
if  possible  to  a  contemporary  or  eye-witness,  was  not 
at  all  surprising,  especially  if  there  was  a  still  living 
tradition,  that  this  or  that  had  been  heard  from  one  of 
the  apostles,  and  could  be  traced  back  to  him  from 
son  to  father.  Why  should  we  put  aside,  nay,  indig- 
nantly reject,  this  simple,  natural  theory,  suggested 
by  all  the  circumstances,  and  capable  of  at  once 
removing  all  difficulties,  in  order  to  prefer  another, 
which  has  the  advantage,  it  is  true,  of  having  been 
generally  accepted  for  centuries,  but  nevertheless 


198  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHEED 

was  originally  nothing  more  than  a  human  appeal 
to  a  superhuman  attestation?  It  must  not  be  for- 
gotten that  if  a  voice  were  really  heard  from  heaven, 
it  lies  with  man  to  understand  it,  or,  on  his  own 
authority,  to  declare  it  the  voice  of  God  or  an  angel. 
With  one-half  of  Christendom  the  doctrine  of  the 
verbal  inspiration  of  the  four  Gospels  never  became 
an  article  of  faith.  It  was  first  made  so  among  the 
Protestants  to  provide  something  incontestable  in 
place  of  the  councils  and  the  Pope.  But  this  only 
drove  Protestants  from  Scylla  into  Charybdis,  and 
landed  them  in  inextricable  difficulties,  because  they 
withdrew  the  Gospels  from  the  historical  soil  out  of 
which  they  sprang.  But  we  do  not  escape  Charybdis 
by  steering  again  into  Scylla,  but  by  endeavouring  to 
rise  above  Charybdis,  ay,  even  above  the  Gospels. 
In  our  human  shortsightedness  we  may  believe  that 
it  would  have  been  better  for  us  had  Jesus  or  the 
apostles  themselves  left  us  something  in  writing. 
But  as  this  did  not  happen,  why  should  we  not 
be  content  with  what  we  have?  The  ruins  of  the 
true  Christianity  still  remain;  why  should  we  not 
endeavour  with  their  help  to  restore  the  ancient 
temple  ? 

Why  should  we  contemptuously  reject  the  tradition 
which  arose  in  the  mouths  of  the  people  ?  Should  we 
be  worse  Christians  if  it  were  clearly  and  plainly  dem- 
onstrated that  we  only  possess  popular  traditions,  out 
of  which  we  must  ourselves  form  a  conception  of  the 
career  and  teaching  of  Christ  ?  Is  it  not  good  for  us, 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          199 

that  we  are  free  in  many  points  to  decide  for  ourselves 
what  Jesus  was  and  what  he  taught? 

And  in  a  world  in  which  everything  develops, 
everything  grows  and  changes,  why  should  religion 
alone  be  an  exception?  Do  we  not  all  freely  confess 
that  certain  precepts  which  are  ascribed  to  Jesus  in 
the  Gospels  are  no  longer  adapted  to  our  times  and 
to  our  circumstances?  Does  any  Christian  turn  his 
left  cheek  when  he  has  been  struck  upon  the  right? 
Do  we  give  our  cloak  when  our  coat  has  been  taken 
from  us  ?  Do  we  hold  everything  that  we  possess  in 
common  as  the  first  Christians  did  ?  Do  we  sell  all 
that  we  have  and  give  it  to  the  poor  (Matthew 
xix.  21)? 

It  is  quite  true  that  under  this  method  a  certain 
personal  freedom  in  the  interpretation  of  the  Gospels 
is  unavoidable,  but  is  not  this  freedom  at  the  same 
time  accompanied  by  a  very  important  feeling  of 
personal  responsibility,  which  is  of  the  utmost  signifi- 
cance for  every  religious  conviction?  It  cannot  be 
denied,  that  this  open  and  honest  acknowledgment 
of  the  undeniable  influence  of  popular  tradition  has 
far-reaching  consequences,  and  will  take  from  us 
much  to  which  we  are  accustomed,  and  that  has  be- 
come near  and  dear,  even  sacred,  to  us.  But  it  has 
this  advantage,  that  we  feel  we  are  candid  and  honest 
in  our  faith,  to  which  we  may  add  that  we  are  never 
forced  in  dealing  with  human  hypotheses  to  give  our 
assent  blindly,  but  may  follow  our  own  judgment. 
We  may  adopt  or  reject  the  view  that  in  the  develop- 


200  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

ment  of  the  gospel  story  much  must  be  ascribed  to 
popular  tradition,  and  I  can  readily  believe  that  many 
who  do  not  know,  either  through  the  study  of  legends 
or  their  own  experience,  the  transforming  influence 
which  school  and  family  traditions  exercise  on  the 
form  of  historical  narratives,  find  it  incredible  that 
such  a  carbonising  process  could  have  taken  place 
also  in  the  evangelical  tradition  as  related  by  the 
men  of  the  next  generation.  They  must  then  con- 
tent themselves  with  the  alternative,  that  the  laws 
of  nature,  which  they  themselves  ascribe  to  the 
Deity,  must  have  been  abrogated  by  their  own 
founder  in  order  that  the  truth  of  the  teaching  of 
Christ  might  gain  a  certain  probability  in  the  eyes 
of  the  people  by  so-called  miracles. 

Let  us  take  an  example  in  order  to  see  what 
we  shall  gain  on  the  one  side  and  lose  on  the 
other.  The  original  meaning  of  making  the  blind 
see,  Jesus  has  himself  told  us  (John  ix.  39),  "For 
judgment  I  am  come  into  this  world,  that  they 
which  see  not  might  see ;  and  that  they  which 
see  might  be  made  blind."  This  refers  to  spirit- 
ual, not  physical  blindness,  and  which  is  the  more 
difficult  to  heal,  the  spiritual  or  the  physical? 
But  when  Jesus  was  repeatedly  said  to  have  healed 
this  spiritual  blindness,  to  have  opened  the  eyes  of 
the  blind  and  unbelieving,  how  was  it  possible  that 
the  masses,  especially  the  children,  should  not  mis- 
understand such  cures,  and  interpret  and  repeat  them 
as  cures  of  physical  blindness?  Certainly  such  an 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          201 

idea  carries  us  a  long  way.  We  must  then,  for  in- 
stance, explain  such  an  expression  as  that  placed  in 
the  mouths  of  the  Pharisees  (John  x.  21),  "  Can  a 
devil  open  the  eyes  of  the  blind?"  as  a  further 
extension  of  a  popular  notion  already  in  the  field. 
Nor  can  it  be  denied  that  cures  of  the  physically 
blind  have  this  in  their  favour,  that  so  exceptional  a 
personality  as  Jesus  may  also  have  possessed  an 
exceptional  healing  power.  It  then  depends  only 
on  the  character  of  the  blindness,  whether  it  was 
curable  or  incurable,  and  the  solution  of  this  question 
we  may  be  content  to  leave  to  the  medical  man.  I 
only  remark,  that  if  the  medical  man  should  deny 
such  a  possibility,  a  true  Christian  would  lose  nothing 
in  consequence,  for  under  all  circumstances  a  spiritual 
healing  power  in  Christ  would  stand  higher  with  all 
of  us  than  one  merely  physical. 

This  may  be  called  shallow  rationalism,  but  surely 
the  human  ratio  or  reason  cannot  be  entirely  re- 
jected. Many  know  of  their  own  experience  that 
a  man  of  high  moral  energy  can  even  now  drive 
out  devils  and  base  thoughts.  Why  not  also  believe 
that  through  his  appearance  and  words  Jesus  made 
such  an  impression  upon  those  possessed,  for  instance, 
upon  the  man  or  the  two  men  who  herded  swine  in 
the  country  of  the  Gadarenes  or  Gergesenes,  that 
they  came  to  themselves  and  began  to  lead  new  lives  ? 
That  on  such  a  conversion  the  swine-herds  should 
forget  their  swine  which  rushed  headlong  into  the 
lake,  is  easily  understood,  and  when  these  two  inci- 


202  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

dents  came  to  the  ears  of  the  people,  what  was  more 
natural  than  the  story  which  we  find  in  Matthew 
(viii.  28),  Mark  (v.  1),  and  Luke  (viii.  26),  but  not 
in  John  ?  We  need  not  now  enter  into  the  discrep- 
ancies between  these  three  narratives,  striking  as 
they  would  be  in  a  divinely  inspired  book.  Of 
course  it  will  be  said  again,  that  this  is  a  shallow, 
rationalistic  explanation,  as  if  the  word  "  rationalist " 
contained  within  itself  something  condemnatory.  At 
all  events,  no  one  can  now  demonstrate  that  Jesus 
did  not  bewitch  the  unclean  spirits  out  of  the  two 
demoniacs  into  the  two  thousand  swine;  but  I  con- 
fess that  the  shallow  rationalistic  explanation  seems 
to  me  far  better  calculated  to  bring  clearly  to  light 
the  influence  which  Jesus  could  exercise  over  the 
most  abandoned  men. 

One  more  instance.  How  often  does  Jesus  say 
that  he  is  the  bread  that  really  satisfies  man,  and  the 
water  that  quenches  all  thirst  (vi.  48) :  "  I  am  the 
bread  of  life.  This  is  the  bread  which  cometh  down 
from  heaven,  that  a  man  may  eat  thereof  and  not 
die.  Whoso  eateth  my  flesh  and  drinketh  my  blood 
hath  eternal  life,  and  I  will  raise  him  up  at  the  last 
day."  Would  any  one,  even  the  woman  of  Samaria, 
take  these  words  literally?  Does  not  Jesus  himself 
help  us  to  a  correct  understanding  of  them  when  he 
says  (vi.  35),  "  I  am  the  bread  of  life ;  he  that  com- 
eth to  me  shall  never  hunger ;  and  he  that  believeth 
on  me  shall  never  thirst,"  and  again,  (vii.  37),  "If 
any  man  thirst  let  him  come  unto  me,  and  drink," 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          203 

And  in  order  to  shield  his  words  against  any  mis- 
understanding he  himself  says  (vi.  63),  "It  is  the 
spirit  that  quickeneth ;  the  flesh  profiteth  nothing ; 
the  words  that  I  speak  unto  you,  they  are  spirit  and 
they  are  life."  And  are  we  resolved  in  spite  of  all 
this  not  to  understand  the  deep  meaning  of  his  words, 
to  remain  blind  and  deaf;  and  do  we,  like  the  Pharisees, 
prefer  the  story  of  how  Jesus  by  magic  means  fed  thou- 
sands with  five  or  seven  loaves  and  two  fishes  (vi.  9), 
so  that  in  the  end  twelve  baskets  of  bread  remained 
after  all  were  satisfied  ?  We  can  readily  comprehend 
how  in  the  mouths  of  the  people  the  great  miracles  of 
Jesus,  the  real  mira  wrought  by  his  life  and  teach- 
ing, became  small  miracula.  But  if  we  surrender 
these  small  miracula,  is  not  something  far  better  left 
us,  namely,  that  Jesus,  who  so  often  called  himself 
the  bread  and  the  wine,  who  even  at  the  Last  Supper, 
as  he  broke  bread  with  his  disciples,  commanded 
them  to  eat  the  bread  which  was  his  body,  and  drink 
the  wine  which  was  his  blood, — that  this  teacher  could 
by  his  teaching  satisfy,  content,  and  convert  thousands, 
who  came  to  him  and  believed  in  him !  It  is  true  that 
the  story  of  the  feeding  of  thousands  with  five  loaves 
of  bread  is  more  intelligible  to  women  and  children, 
and  makes  a  stronger  impression  than  the  metaphori- 
cal words  of  Christ ;  but  nothing  is  more  easy  to 
understand  than  the  transformation  of  a  tale  of  the 
conversion  or  spiritual  satisfying  of  thousands,  into 
a  parable  of  the  feeding  of  thousands  with  five  loaves. 
But  have  not  the  truly  devout  and  conscientious 


204  THE  SILESIAN  HOESEHERD 

thinkers  rights  of  their  own  in  the  community? 
Must  they  really  hold  themselves  aloof  from  the 
church,  because  they  have  too  deep  a  reverence  for 
the  true  teaching  of  Christ?  Grand  and  beautiful 
as  are  St.  Peter's  in  Rome,  St.  Mark's  in  Venice,  or 
the  Cathedral  at  Milan,  it  is  heartbreaking  to  ob- 
serve the  so-called  divine  service  in  these  buildings. 
Let  us  not  be  deceived  by  the  sayings,  that  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  belongs  to  the  children,  or  that  a 
childlike  faith  is  best.  That  is  quite  true,  but  it 
has  absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  our  question.  Of 
course  in  every  generation  millions  of  children  are 
born,  and  milk  must  be  provided  for  these  as  well ; 
but  this  milk  is  not  for  men,  and  these  should  not 
permit  themselves  to  be  frightened  by  mere  words, 
such  as  shallow  enlightenment,  rationalism,  unbelief, 
etc.  The  worst  of  it  is  that  we  have  permitted  our 
ministri  to  become  our  masters  instead  of  our  ser- 
vants, and  that  the  weak  among  them  far  outnum- 
ber the  strong.  In  history,  however,  the  minority 
is  always  victorious.  Popular  legend  has  certainly 
at  times  grievously  obscured  the  gospel  of  Christ, 
but  not  so  much  as  to  prevent  those  who  are  familiar 
with  its  nature  and  effect  from  discovering  the  grains 
of  gold  in  the  sand,  the  rays  of  truth  behind  the 
clouds.  At  all  events,  popular  legend  refuses  to  be 
ruled  out.  A  knowledge  of  it  and  its  influence  on 
historical  events  in  other  nations,  and  especially  a 
familiarity  with  the  modes  of  expression  in  Oriental 
languages,  are  of  the  greatest  use  in  all  these  investi- 


THE  REASONABLENESS   OF  RELIGION          205 

gations.  Only  let  no  one  confound  legend  and  meta- 
phor with  mythology.  When  Jesus  says  that  he  is 
the  water,  and  that  whoever  drinks  of  this  water 
shall  never  thirst  again,  every,  one  readily  perceives 
that  he  speaks  metaphorically.  And  likewise  when 
he  says  that  he  is  the  vine  or  the  good  shepherd. 
But  here  the  transition  from  parable  to  reality  very 
soon  begins.  Among  so  many  pictures  of  the  good 
shepherd  it  need  occasion  no  surprise  that  it  is  com- 
monly imagined  that  Jesus  actually  was  a  shepherd 
and  carried  a  lamb  on  his  shoulders.  What  occurs 
now  was  of  course  equally  possible  in  the  earliest  times. 
When  the  common  people  saw  daily,  in  old  mosaic 
pictures,  a  sword  coming  forth  from  the  mouth  of  God, 
they  formed  a  representation  of  God  corresponding  to 
these  pictures  (Rev.  i.  20).  And  thus  many  readers 
of  the  Gospel  suppose  that  Jesus  was  really  carried 
up  into  the  air  by  the  devil  and  placed  on  the 
summit  of  the  temple  or  of  a  high  mountain,  that  he 
might  show  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  and 
tempt  him  to  establish  an  earthly  realm.  Is  it  rever- 
ent to  imagine  Christ  borne  through  the  air  by 
the  devil,  instead  of  simply  learning  that  Christ  him- 
self, as  we  read,  was  not  a  stranger  to  inward  trials, 
and  that  he  freely  confessed  them  to  his  disciples? 
Many  parables  are  represented  in  the  Gospels,  as 
though  they  had  really  occurred  at  the  time.  Thus, 
in  the  parables  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  the  phrase 
always  runs  that  it  is  like  seed  which  a  man  sowed, 
and  while  he  slept  an  enemy  came  and  sowed  tares. 


206  THE  SILESIAN  HOESEHERD 

Or  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  leaven,  which  a 
woman  took  and  hid  in  three  measures  of  meal,  or 
like  a  treasure  found  by  a  man  in  a  field,  or  like  a 
merchant  seeking  goodly  pearls,  etc.  In  listening  to 
these  parables  or  looking  at  pictorial  representations 
of  them,  there  develops  almost  unconsciously,  es- 
pecially among  the  young,  a  belief  in  their  reality, 
in  their  actual  occurrence  at  the  time  of  Christ.  In 
many  cases  this  belief  is  widely  spread,  as,  for  exam- 
ple, in  the  story  of  the  good  Samaritan.  Now  it  is 
quite  possible  that  some  such  incident  as  Jesus  re- 
lated had  occurred  in  his  time,  or  shortly  before  it ; 
but  it  is  just  as  likely  to  have  been  a  parable  invented 
for  a  specific  purpose.  And  why  should  not  this  be 
true  of  other  things,  which  the  Gospels  ascribe  to 
Jesus  himself? 

Is  it  necessary  to  believe,  that  Jesus  saw  the 
Pharisees  casting  their  gifts  into  the  treasury  with 
his  own  eyes  (Luke  xxi.  1),  and  the  poor  widow 
who  threw  in  two  mites,  or  is  it  possible  to  consider 
this,  too,  as  a  parable,  without  insisting  that  Jesus 
really  sat  opposite  the  sacred  chest,  and  counted  the 
alms,  and  knew  that  the  widow  had  put  in  two 
mites,  and  had  really  nothing  left?  Of  many 
things,  as  of  the  conversation  between  Jesus  and 
Nicodemus,  or  between  Jesus  and  the  woman  of 
Samaria,  no  one  could  have  had  any  knowledge 
except  those  who  took  part  in  it.  We  must  there- 
fore assume  that  Jesus  communicated  these  conver- 
sations to  his  disciples,  and  that  these  have  reported 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          207 

to  us  the  ipsissima  verba.  In  this  manner  we  are 
constantly  involving  ourselves  in  fresh  difficulties 
of  our  own  making,  which  we  may  indeed  leave  out 
of  consideration,  but  which  would  never  exist  at  all 
if  we  would  only  consider  the  circumstances  under 
which  the  Gospels  arose.  I  have  previously  expounded 
this  view  of  the  popular  origin  of  the  evangelic  nar- 
ratives in  my  Gilford  lectures  before  an  audience, 
certainly  very  orthodox ;  and  although  a  small  number 
of  theologians  were  much  incensed  against  me,  —  it 
was  their  duty,  —  the  majority,  even  of  the  clergy, 
were  decidedly  with  me.  The  things  themselves 
and  their  lessons  remain  undiminished  in  value ;  we 
merely  acknowledge  a  fact,  quite  natural  from  an 
historical  standpoint,  viz.  that  the  accounts  of  the  life 
and  teachings  of  Jesus  have  not  come  to  us  direct 
from  Christ,  nor  from  the  apostles,  but  from  men 
who,  as  they  themselves  tell  us,  received  the  report 
from  others  by  tradition.  Their  narratives,  conse- 
quently, are  not  perhaps  fictitious,  or  prepared  with 
a  certain  object;  but  they  do  show  traces  of  the 
influence  that  was  unavoidable  in  oral  transmission, 
especially  at  a  time  of  great  spiritual  excitement. 
This  is  a  problem  which  in  itself  has  nothing  what- 
ever to  do  with  religion.  We  have  the  Gospels  as 
they  are.  It  remains  with  the  historian  alone  to 
pass  judgment  upon  the  origin,  the  transmission, 
and  the  authenticity  of  these  texts,  just  as  the  re- 
construction of  the  text  lies  solely  with  the  philolo- 
gist. For  this  he  need  not  even  be  a  Christian, 


208  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

merely  an  historian.  Whatever  may  be  the  judg- 
ment of  the  historical  inquirer,  we  must  learn  to  be 
content  with  what  they  leave  us.  In  this,  too,  the 
half  is  often  better  than  the  whole.  Quite  sufficient 
remains,  even  when  the  critical  historian  assures  us 
that  the  Gospels  as  we  possess  them  were  neither 
written  by  Christ  nor  the  apostles,  but  contain  the 
traditions  of  the  oldest  Christian  communities,  and 
that  the  manuscripts  in  which  they  have  reached 
us  were  not  written  till  the  fifth  or  at  the  earliest 
the  fourth  century.  We  may  deal  with  these  mate- 
rials as  with  all  other  historical  materials  from  that 
period ;  and  we  do  so  rather  as  independent  histori- 
ans than  as  Christians. 

The  view  that  the  four  Gospels  were  miraculously 
revealed  to  their  authors,  miraculously  written,  miracu- 
lously copied  and  finally  printed,  is  a  view  no  doubt 
deserving  of  respect,  but  it  leaves  the  contents  of 
the  Gospels  untouched.  The  difference  between  the 
historical  and  the  conventional  interpretation  of  the 
Gospels  comes  out  most  clearly  in  the  doctrine  of 
eternal  life.  What  Jesus  understands  by  the  eternal 
life  that  he  has  brought  to  mankind,  is  as  clear  as  the 
sun.  He  repeats  it  again  and  again.  Eternal  life 
consists  in  knowing  that  men  have  their  Father 
and  their  true  being  in  the  only  true  God,  and  that 
as  sons  of  this  same  Father,  they  are  of  like  nature 
with  God  and  Christ  (John  xvii.  3). 

This  is  the  fundamental  truth  of  Christianity,  and 
it  holds  good  not  only  for  the  contemporaries  of 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          209 

Jesus,  but  for  all  times.  Those  who  see  in  this  view 
an  overestimate  of  human  nature,  need  only  ask 
themselves  what  man  could  be,  if  he  were  not  a  par- 
taker of  the  divine  nature.  This  excludes  the  differ- 
ence between  human  and  divine  nature  as  little  as 
the  difference  between  the  physical  father  and  the 
physical  son.  Even  in  this  case  we  speak  figuratively, 
for  how  could  we  speak  otherwise  of  what  is  super- 
sensual  ?  The  repetition  of  stories  among  the  people, 
narrating  how  Jesus  raised  one  or  another  to  life,  to 
eternal  life,  very  soon  led  among  women  and  children 
to  the  misunderstanding  that  this  referred  only  to 
a  resurrection  from  bodily  death.  Nay,  this  raising 
passed  with  them,  as  it  still  does  with  many,  for  a 
stronger  proof  of  the  divine  nature  and  power  of 
Christ  than  the  resurrection  from  that  spiritual  death, 
which  holds  in  captivity  all  who  have  not  recognised 
their  own  divine  sonship  and  have  not  understood 
ti\e  glad  tidings  which  Jesus  brought  to  all  mankind. 
Such  misunderstandings  we  find  everywhere,  as  when, 
for  instance,  even  a  man  like  Nicodemus  fails  to  com- 
prehend the  new  birth  of  which  Jesus  speaks,  and 
asks  if  a  man  can  enter  his  mother's  womb  a  second 
time.  If  this  was  possible  in  a  Scribe,  how  much  more 
so  with  the  uneducated  people.  In  the  same  way  the 
Jews  misunderstand  the  saying  of  Jesus,  that  the 
truth  will  make  them  free,  and  answer  that  they  are 
the  seed  of  Abraham,  and  free  men,  so  that  Jesus  had 
to  repeat  that  whosoever  commits  sin  is  not  free,  but 
a  slave  of  sin  (John  viii.  33).  Such  misunderstand- 


210  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

ings  meet  us  everywhere,  and  their  influence  extends 
much  farther  than  we  at  first  suppose.  Naturally 
the  tradition  also  puts  words  into  Jesus'  mouth  that 
could  only  have  issued  out  of  the  notions  of  the  people, 
and  almost  entirely  conceal  the  depth  of  his  own 
words.  While  the  revelation  of  the  true  divine  son- 
ship  of  man  immediately  bestows  eternal  life  on  him 
who  comprehends  or  believes  in  it,  heals  his  blind- 
ness, and  raises  him  from  spiritual  death,  Jesus  is 
presented  as  not  purposing  to  raise  the  dead  un- 
til the  last  day  (John  vi.  40).  Martha  makes  the 
same  mistake,  when  to  the  words  of  Jesus,  "Thy 
brother  shall  rise  again,"  she  answers,  "  I  know  that 
he  shall  rise  at  the  last  day"  (John  xi.  24).  Even 
some  of  the  works  which  are  ascribed  to  Jesus  are 
plainly  derived  from  the  same  source.  A  spiritual 
resurrection  is  not  sufficient,  it  even  passes  for  less 
than  a  bodily,  and  this  is  the  very  reason  for  the 
numerous  stories  of  the  raising  of  the  dead.  These 
are  matters  from  which,  even  to  this  day,  devout 
Christians  are  loath  to  part,  especially  where  the 
details  are  given  so  minutely  as  in  the  raising  of 
Lazarus.  Now  there  is  absolutely  no  objection  to 
this,  if  we  are  resolved  to  cling  to  the  historical 
reality  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus.  Only  in  that  case 
the  terms  employed  should  be  exactly  defined.  If 
we  give  the  name  death  to  the  condition  which  ex- 
cludes any  return  to  life,  especially  when,  as  with 
Lazarus,  decay  had  already  set  in,  the  condition  from 
which  Lazarus  returned  to  life  cannot  be  called  death 


THE   REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          211 

without  a  contradiction.  Jesus  even  says  that  his 
sickness  was  not  fatal  (John  xi.  4),  and  that  he  is 
not  dead,  but  merely  sleeps  (John  xi.  11).  Was  he 
mistaken  ?  Such  words  should  at  least  not  be  entirely 
disregarded,  even  though  the  other  words  follow  im- 
mediately after,  "Lazarus  is  dead"  (John  xi.  14). 
That  a  highly  gifted  nature,  like  that  of  Jesus,  may 
have  possessed  wonderful  healing  powers,  cannot  be 
denied,  however  difficult  it  may  be  to  determine  the 
boundary  between  what  is  and  is  not  possible  here. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  firmly  established  that  when 
once  such  an  idea  as  the  raising  from  physical  death 
becomes  rooted  in  the  popular  mind,  the  details, 
especially  such  as  can  serve  as  evidence,  are  provided 
spontaneously.  The  nucleus  of  the  story  of  the  rais- 
ing of  Lazarus  lies  of  course  in  the  words  (John  xi. 
25,  26),  "  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  he  that 
believeth  in  me  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live, 
and  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never 
die."  Here  we  have  the  true  teaching  of  Christ,  in 
his  own  apparently  contradictory  language.  The 
saying,  "Whoever  believes  in  me  shall  never  die," 
does  not  necessarily  mean  that  his  body  will  never  die  ; 
and  so  the  words,  "  Though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall 
he  live,"  certainly  do  not  signify  that  his  dead  and 
decayed  body  shall  receive  new  life.  But  the  people 
wanted  something  else.  For  the  true  miracles,  for 
the  spiritual  resurrection,  they  had  no  comprehension, 
they  wanted  sensuous  miracles,  they  wanted  the 
resurrection  of  a  body  already  decayed,  and  this  is 


212  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

described  in  the  Gospels  in  detail.  Such  is  the  reg- 
ular privilege  of  popular  tradition,  and  it  happens 
without  deliberate  intention,  except  that  of  bringing 
vividly  before  us  the  common  interpretation  of  the 
fact.  Popular  tradition  is  not  intentional  deception, 
it  is  only  an  unavoidable  fusion  of  facts  with  con- 
ventional ideas,  whereby  God  becomes  a  laborer 
wearied  by  six  days'  work ;  his  seat  becomes  Olympus 
or  a  golden  throne  in  some  corner  of  the  blue  sky ; 
the  Son  of  God  sinks  to  the  level  of  a  prince  of  the 
house  of  David,  the  Saviour  to  a  miracle  doctor,  and 
his  message  of  salvation  to  a  promise  of  resurrection 
from  physical  death.  There  are  many  good  men  and 
women  fulfilling  in  their  daily  walk  the  commands 
of  Christ,  to  whom  the  true  historical  conception  of 
the  gospel  story  would  be  a  terrible  disillusion.  Well, 
such  Christians  are  at  liberty  to  remain  in  their  own 
views.  Our  own  interpretation  of  many  of  the  de- 
tails in  the  traditional  representation  of  the  Gospels, 
though  details  certainly  of  very  great  significance, 
makes  no  claim  to  papal  authority.  It  gladly  con- 
cedes the  possibility  of  error,  and  only  claims  to  give 
an  interpretation  of  the  evangelic  writings,  founded 
on  nature  and  history.  It  should  answer,  and  at  the 
same  time  appease,  the  very  numerous  and,  at  bottom, 
honest  men,  who,  like  the  Horseherd,  declare  the 
gospel  narratives,  as  ordinarily  understood,  full  of 
falsehood  and  fraud  or  even  pure  fancy,  and  who 
have  consequently  broken  with  the  Christian  revela- 
tion from  conscientious  scruples.  Their  number  is 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF   RELIGION          213 

greater  than  is  generally  supposed,  and  it  must  on  no 
account  be  supposed  that  they  are  necessarily  wicked 
or  even  immoral  men.  When  they  declare  the  Chris- 
tian revelation  to  be  an  absurdity,  it  is  because  they 
do  not  know  it  in  its  historical  origin  and  its  divine 
truth.  To  assume  that  every  word,  every  letter,  — 
for  it  has  been  carried  even  so  far,  —  that  every 
parable,  every  figure,  was  whispered  to  the  authors 
of  the  Gospels,  is  certainly  an  absurdity,  and  rests  only 
on  human  and  often  only  on  priestly  authority.  But 
the  true  revelation,  the  real  truth,  as  it  was  already 
anticipated  by  the  Greek  philosophers,  slowly  ac- 
cepted by  Jews  like  Philo  and  the  contemporaries  of 
Jesus,  taught  by  men  like  Clement  and  Origen  in 
the  ancient  Greek  church,  and,  in  fine,  realised  in  the 
life  of  Jesus  and  sealed  by  his  death,  is  no  absurdity ; 
it  is  for  every  thinking  Christian  the  eternal  life  or 
the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth,  which  Jesus  wished 
to  establish,  and  in  part  did  establish.  To  become  a 
citizen  of  this  kingdom  is  the  highest  that  man  can 
attain,  but  it  is  not  attained  merely  through  baptism 
and  confirmation ;  it  must  be  gained  in  earnest  spiritual 
conflict. 

In  nearly  all  religions  God  remains  far  from  man. 
I  say  in  nearly  all  religions ;  for  in  Brahmanism  the 
unity,  not  the  union,  of  the  human  soul  with  Brahman 
is  recognised  as  the  highest  aim.  This  unity  with 
Deity,  together  with  phenomenal  difference,  Jesus  ex- 
pressed in  part  through  the  Logos,  in  part  through 
the  Son.  There  is  nothing  so  closely  allied  as  thought 


214  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

and  word,  father  and  Son.  They  can  be  distinguished, 
but  never  separated,  for  they  exist  only  through  each 
other.  In  this  manner  the  Greek  philosophers  con- 
sidered all  creation  as  the  thought  or  the  word  of 
God,  and  the  thought  "  man  "  became  naturally  the 
highest  Logos,  realised  in  millions  of  men,  and  raised 
to  the  highest  perfection  in  Jesus.  As  the  thought 
exists  only  through  the  word,  and  the  word  only 
through  the  thought,  so  also  the  Father  exists  only 
through  the  Son,  and  the  Son  through  the  Father, 
and  in  this  sense  Jesus  feels  and  declares  himself 
the  Son  of  God,  and  all  men  who  believe  in  him  his 
brethren.  This  revelation  or  inspiration  came  to 
mankind  through  Jesus.  No  one  knew  the  Father 
except  the  Son,  who  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father, 
and  those  to  whom  the  Son  willeth  to  reveal  him. 
This  is  the  Christian  revelation  in  the  true  sense  of 
the  word.  It  has  long  been  attempted  to  make  an 
essential  difference  between  Jesus,  the  only  begotten 
Son,  and  his  brethren,  through  an  exaggerated  feel- 
ing of  affected  reverence.  But  if  this  is  carried  too 
far,  the  temple  which  Jesus  himself  erected  for  man- 
kind is  destroyed.  It  is  true  that  no  one  comes  to 
the  Father  except  through  Jesus,  and  that  Jesus  is  the 
only  begotten  Son,  for  he  is  in  the  Father  and  the 
Father  in  him  (John  xiv.  10),  nay,  he  and  the  Father 
are  one  (John  x.  30).  The  distinction  is  therefore 
there,  but  the  unity  as  well,  for  Jesus  himself  says 
that  he  is  in  his  disciples  as  the  Father  is  in  him,  that 
they  all  may  be  one,  as  he  is  one  with  God,  and  God 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  RELIGION          215 

with  him  (John  xvii.  21).  To  many  there  may  be 
no  sense  in  this,  because  their  ideas  of  God  and 
of  the  Son  of  God  are  altogether  materialistic,  but 
to  those  who  have  learned  to  feel  the  divine,  not 
only  without  but  also  within,  these  words  are  the 
light  of  the  world.  In  this  sense  we  need  not  be 
ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ,  and  can  be  pre- 
pared to  look  all  the  Horseherds  of  the  world  in 
the  face  as  intellectually  free,  yet  at  the  same  time 
as  true  Christians,  in  the  way  Jesus  himself  would 
have  desired;  often  in  error,  like  the  disciples  of 
old,  but  still  loyal  and  honest  followers  of  the  Son 
of  God. 

The  main  issue  in  all  these  questions  is  honesty, 
honesty  toward  ourselves  even  more  than  toward 
others.  We  know  how  easily  we  may  all  be  deceived, 
how  easily  we  are  put  off  with  words,  especially 
when  they  are  words  of  ancient  use.  It  was  the 
sincere  tone  of  the  Horseherd  that  prompted  me  to 
public  discussion  of  his  doubts,  for  doubts  are  gen- 
erally anticipations  of  truth,  and  to  be  true  to  one- 
self is  better  than  to  possess  all  truth.  It  gave  me 
pleasure  to  learn  recently  that  he  is  still  among  the 
living,  although  for  an  interval  he  was  beyond  the 
range  of  the  usual  postal  facilities,  so  that  my  letters 
did  not  reach  him.  Whether  he  thinks  me  as  honest 
as  himself,  we  must  wait  to  know.  I  did  not  seek 
either  to  persuade  or  to  convince  him.  Such  things 
depend  too  much  on  circumstances  and  environment. 
I  merely  wished  to  show  him  that  others,  who  do 


216  THE  SILESIAN  HOBSEHERD 

not  agree  with  him,  or  with  whom  he  does  not  agree, 
are  honest,  and  may  honestly  hold  entirely  different 
views.  To  learn  to  understand  each  other  is  the 
great  art  of  life,  and  to  "  agree  to  differ  "  is  the  best 
lesson  of  the  comparative  science  of  religion. 


VI 

CONCLUSION 

THE  allusion  in  the  foregoing  page  is  to  a  very 
long  letter  which  the  Horseherd  wrote  to  my  hus- 
band, dated  September  10, 1897,  eighteen  months  after 
his  first  letter.  This  was  followed  three  days  later 
by  a  short  note,  saying  that  the  long  letter  was  not 
written  for  publication,  and  that  it  was  the  Horse- 
herd's  express  wish  that  it  should  not  be  printed. 
In  this  note  he  mentions  that  he  was  perfectly  well, 
and  that  he  had  been  so  successful  in  his  trade,  that 
he  no  longer  sat  with  an  oil  lamp  by  an  iron  stove, 
but  was  "every  inch  a  gentleman,"  as  he  expressed 
it.  The  Pferdeburla  was  brought  out  early  in  1899, 
and  my  husband  sent  a  copy  to  the  only  address  he 
had,  — "Pferdeburla,  Post-Office,  Pittsburgh,"— with 
the  following  letter :  — 

(Translation.)  "7  NORHAM  GARDENS,  Feb.  10  /99. 

"  DEAR  FAR-OFF  FRIEND  :  You  see  I  have  kept 
my  promise,  and  after  many  delays  the  book  is  ready. 
How  are  you  ?  whether  you  are  sitting  by  your  iron 
stove  and  oil  light,  or  have  become  a  great  and  rich 

217 


218  THE  SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

man.  Well,  all  that  is  only  external,  the  great  thing, 
the  Self,  remains  unchanged.  I  am  growing  old  — 
past  seventy-five  —  and  have  still  so  much  to  do,  and 
am  now  printing  a  big  book,  the  Six  Systems  of  Indian 
Philosophy.  That  would  please  you,  for  those  old 
fellows  saw  deeper  than  our  philosophers,  though  they 
don't  talk  so  much  about  it.  Now  write  and  tell  me 
how  it  is  with  you,  and  whether  you  are  pleased  or 
not  with  your  and  my  book.  But  make  haste,  for 
who  knows  how  long  it  may  last.  It  is  strange  how 
well  one  can  know  those  whom  one  has  never  seen. 

"  With  all  good  wishes, 

"F.  MAXMtJLLER." 


The  book  and  letter  were  returned  as  unclaimed 
after  three  months.  But  on  September  29, 1899,  the 
Horseherd  wrote  again,  giving  his  real  name,  Fritz 
Menzel,  and  the  address  Monangahela  Hotel,  Pitts- 
burgh. This  letter  I  have  been  unable  to  find.  On 
October  17,  1899,  I  wrote  by  my  husband's  desire. 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  My  husband,  who  is  seriously  ill, 
wishes  me  to  send  you  this  letter  from  him,  written 
last  February  and  returned  late  in  April,  and  to  say, 
as  he  has  now  received  your  letter  of  September  29, 
with  your  real  name  and  address,  he  is  sending  you  the 
copy  of  his  book,  Das  Pferdebiirla,  which  was  also 
returned  to  him." 


CONCLUSION  219 

After  a  few  months  both  letter  and  book  came  back 
unclaimed,  and  from  that  time  nothing  more  has  been 
heard  from  the  Horseherd.  The  book  bears  the  in- 
scription :  — 

"  To  the  Pferdebiirla,  with  greetings  from  his 
Pardner." 

A  few  words  must  be  said  about  the  translation. 
In  August,  1898,  a  translation  of  the  first  article  on 
Celsus,  made  by  Mr.  O.  A.  Fechter  of  North  Yakima, 
Washington,  U.S.A.,  was  sent  to  my  husband  by  an 
old  friend,  Mrs.  Bartlett,  wife  of  the  Rev.  H.  M. 
Bartlett,  rector  of  the  church  in  the  same  place.  He 
liked  it  and  returned  it  at  once,  begging  that  the 
other  articles,  which  had  appeared  in  the  Deutsche 
Rundschau,  though  not  yet  published  as  a  book, 
might  be  translated.  For  more  than  two  years  noth- 
ing was  heard  from  North  Yakima,  though  I  wrote 
more  than  once  during  my  husband's  illness,  so  anx- 
ious was  he  to  see  the  translation  carried  out.  At 
length,  just  before  Christmas,  1901, 1  wrote  once  more 
and  registered  the  letter,  which  was  safely  delivered, 
and  I  then  heard  that  my  friend  had  not  only  written 
repeatedly,  but  that  the  whole  finished  translation  had 
been  sent,  nearly  two  years  before,  and  that  she  was 
astonished  at  hearing  nothing  further.  Some  fault 
in  the  post-office  had  caused  the  long  silence  on  both 
sides.  A  rough  copy  of  the  translation  had  been 
kept,  and  was  sent  over  after  it  had  been  clearly 
written  out. 


220  THE   SILESIAN  HORSEHERD 

I  cannot  sufficiently  express  my  gratitude  to  the 
Rev.  J.  Estlin  Carpenter,  who  has  revised  the  whole 
work  in  the  most  thorough  manner,  devoting  to  it 
much  of  his  very  valuable  time. 

GEORGINA  MAX  MULLER. 


WORKS 

BY  THE 

Rt.  Hon.  Friedrich  Max  Muller 


NATURAL  RELIGION :  the  Gifford  Lectures,  1888. 
PHYSICAL  RELIGION  :  the  Gifford  Lectures,  1890. 
ANTHROPOLOGICAL  RELIGION :  the  Gifford  Lectures,  1891. 
THEOSOPHY ;   or,  Psychological  Religion :   the  Gifford  Lectures,  1892. 
CHIPS  FROM  A  GERMAN  WORKSHOP.    4  volumes. 
I.   RECENT  ESSAYS  AND  ADDRESSES. 
II.   BIOGRAPHICAL  ESSAYS. 
III.    ESSAYS  ON  LANGUAGE  AND  LITERATURE. 
IV.  ESSAYS  ON  MYTHOLOGY  AND  FOLK-LORE. 

THE    ORIGIN    AND    GROWTH    OF    RELIGION,    as    Illustrated    by   the 

Religions  of  India :  the  Hibbert  Lectures,  1878. 

BIOGRAPHIES  OF  WORDS,  AND  THE  HOME  OF  THE  ARYAS. 
THE  SCIENCE  OF   LANGUAGE:    Founded  on   Lectures  delivered  at  the 

Royal  Institution  in  1861  and  1863.     2  volumes. 
INDIA:  What  can  it  Teach  Us? 

INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  SCIENCE  OF  RELIGION.    Four  Lectures,  1870. 
RAMAKJJ JSHJVA :    His  Life  and  Sayings. 

THREE  LECTURES  ON  THE  VEDANTA  PHILOSOPHY,  1894. 
LAST  ESSAYS.     First  Series.    Essays  on  Language,  Folk-lore,  etc. 
LAST  ESSAYS.     Second  Series.    Essays  on  the  Science  of  Religion. 
THE  SCIENCE  OF  THOUGHT. 

CONTRIBUTIONS   TO   THE  SCIENCE  OF   MYTHOLOGY.    2  vo  ames. 
THE  SIX  SYSTEMS   OF  INDIAN  PHILOSOPHY. 
AULD   LANG   SYNE.    First  Series. 

AULD  LANG   SYNE.    Second  Series.    My  Indian  Friends. 
DEUTSCHE  LIEBE   (GERMAN  LOVE) :   Fragments  from  the  Papers  of 

an  Alien.    Collected  by  F.  MAX  MULLER.     Translated  from  the  German 

by  G.  A.  M. 

MY  AUTOBIOGRAPHY :  A  Fragment.    With  Portraits. 
HANDBOOKS  FOR  THE  STUDY  OF  SANSKRIT. 

THE  SANSKRIT  TEXT  OF  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  THE  HITOPADEJA. 

THE  SECOND,  THIRD,  AND  FOURTH  BOOKS  OF  THE  HITOPADEJA; 
containing  that  Sanskrit  Text,  with  Interlinear  Translation. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  5O  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


I--OCT  i2  1S3-- 

^— 

FEB131978 

V/UV<T      1-  ^ 

y~-+*m 

Z 

ZTg   ;J 

o            a 

/ 

-1                     r 
r**~       *i 

>;         .         ;i< 

8Jun'53ED 

j 

03        U 

•     ^r>co    I  II 

tc 

jy      ;  :      0 

UJ                    -C 

H              ^ 

":*i**:'                           ^^ 

<                    G^ 

Z 

D 

.9"          ^ 

>•       fe       u.r 

«Eacii.«e~7  78 

!?      o>       ^ 

5^o 

UJ 

2           z 

i 

LD  21-100m-. 

